


the stars are crying (for what we could have had)

by brokenshards



Series: Rewriting Merlin's Wrongs [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-07 07:33:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 85,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenshards/pseuds/brokenshards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(The sequel to "you and i are a story that never gets told") This is season 3, the way it should've been. Arthur has lost Morgana, and he is struggling to move on without her. Morgana is learning to master her powers with the help of her sister, but she can't stay away from Camelot forever... Once you set things into motion, everything can change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

It had been over a year since Morgana’s death, and the kingdom was slowly getting back to normalcy. For the first few months, Arthur was under the delusion that Morgana was alive, and nothing could convince him otherwise. He would ride out for days at a time, determined to find Morgana and bring her home, but he never found anything. Eventually Uther had threatened to lock Arthur away in the dungeons if it was what it took to stop the madness. Faced with isolation from his people and his friends, Arthur gave up his quest, albeit begrudgingly. Every time he went on a mission or on a hunting trip, his eyes would still wander, scanning the horizon for a glimpse of her.

But life went on, and Arthur slowly stopped searching.

Merlin went on protecting Arthur and the kingdom, though he found himself wishing Morgana was there more often than he’d admit. It was lonely without someone to share his magic with; but more than that, the whole kingdom seemed so quiet and subdued without Morgana’s spark. Arthur especially.

Though the prince was distant, he still worried about those closest to him. Arthur had refused to let Guinevere be without work, so he found a place for her in the castle. She mostly worked in the kitchens and did some odd jobs for the visiting ladies in the court. It wasn’t much, but it kept food on her table. On a slow day, she had attempted to clear out Morgana’s chambers, but before she could start packing away the dresses, Merlin had stormed in, gesticulating wildly with a look of mild panic on his face, and made her stop. Arthur apparently had heard what she was doing, and he wouldn’t allow it. He never went in Morgana’s chambers himself, but he refused to let anyone change anything in there. Perhaps it was still his fading hope that Morgana was alive, or maybe it was his way of holding on to her memory. Either way, he made it quite clear that Morgana’s room was off limits. Gwen never went in there again.

While Morgana’s room was frozen in time, the kingdom was still moving. Camelot was at war with Cenred’s kingdom, and though no battles had officially been waged, it made everything more difficult. The patrols were often attacked, and without their ability to monitor Camelot properly, bandits ran rampant in the woods. The never-ending activity kept Arthur busy, and helped him to escape his thoughts of Morgana. By the anniversary of her death, he had all but let her go, as hard as it was. He accepted that Morgana was gone and started to move on without her.

And so life resumed. Arthur completed his duties with Merlin at his side and the kingdom healed. Everything went on as normal. Or so they believed.

\---

Arthur and a group of knights were out on a reconnaissance mission to search for a patrol that had not returned. Most often they would find only the lone horses and the cold bodies of their men, but Arthur always held the hope that they would find survivors and bring them home.

They had been travelling for almost an entire day, and dusk was soon coming. The knights were on the brink of exhaustion, but Arthur was determined. They rode deep into the woods, the trees blocking out the last vestiges of sunlight and leaving them immersed in darkness.

Merlin considered speaking up and warning Arthur against continuing on the mission, but he knew that there was no use talking to the stubborn prince once he had set his mind to something. There was a heaviness to the air, though, and Merlin could sense the change in the wind. He could feel his horse twitch beneath him and knew that the animals felt it as well. Something was coming.

Before Merlin could comment, the trees began to rustle. The horses stomped anxiously and reared, throwing several knights from their saddles. Arthur dismounted from his horse just in time to greet the flood of bandits that swarmed them from the woods.

The bandits easily overtook the tired knights, killing or incapacitating all of them in minutes. Arthur fought harder and longer, but he was outnumbered and losing the upper ground. Merlin had tried to help with magic when Arthur wasn’t looking, but he too was struggling. One of the larger bandits came and grabbed Merlin and threw him roughly against a tree, leaving the boy unconscious in a heap on the ground. Without the warlock’s help, Arthur was truly alone in the fight.

The prince was never one to quit, and he continued to attack and kill as many bandits as he could, but it wasn’t enough. One of the men swung a heavy mace through the air and it connected with Arthur’s back. The force of the blow brought Arthur stumbling to his knees, and his lost his grip on his sword. His vision blurred, the images swimming across his eyes and he grabbed blindly in front of him, trying to reclaim his weapon.

The largest of the men came and pressed the heel of his boot down on top of Arthur’s fingers as the prince groped around in the leaves. Arthur groaned from the pain, biting down on his tongue to try and distract himself from the cracking sound of bones in his hand.

The man standing on Arthur’s fingers cackled, the voice reverberating off the trees. “The mighty Prince of Camelot. Not so mighty now.” He released Arthur’s fingers and motioned to two other men. They obediently walked over, each one grabbing one of Arthur’s arms and pulling them back to restrain him, leaving him on his knees. “King Cenred has put a price on your head. He didn’t specify whether he wanted it attached or not.”

As he regained his cognizance, Arthur struggled against the hold on his arms. “You will regret this,” he warned.

The man unsheathed a large sword from his belt, smiling. “No, I don’t believe I will.”

Arthur could feel his heart hammering as though it were in his throat. He desperately looked over at where Merlin lay, hoping for a miracle. He was not afraid to die, but this should not be his end, not now. He thrashed harder, but his captors were strong, and his body was growing sore.

The bandit in front of Arthur lifted the sword, preparing to bring it down on Arthur’s neck.

Arthur shut his eyes, listening to the slight swish of the metal cutting through the air, mentally steeling himself. He counted the seconds, waiting for the cold bite of steel on his neck. 

The pain never came, and the sound of the sword had vanished, replaced with a stuttering gasp. Arthur lifted his head, examining his would be executioner. The man was gasping for breath, his face tinged with blue. He dropped the sword, bringing his hands up to pull at an invisible force around his neck. With a loud crack, his head spun round, and the struggling stopped.

The forest was quiet for a few agonizing seconds, save for the resounding thump of the body hitting the earth. The other bandits exchanged worried looks, none of them able to decide whether to stay or run.

Suddenly, the men holding Arthur were violently ripped away from him, their arms falling away like water as they flew through the air. Before they had even landed, the rest of the men were airborne as well, all radiating backwards, away from Arthur.

As the leaves settled and the dying men fell silent, you could still hear the air crackling with power. Arthur remained stationary at first, taking in his surroundings. Someone had just saved his life, and judging from the level of magic he had witnessed, they were strong, and possibly dangerous. Something rustled nearby, and Arthur immediately picked up his fallen sword with his good hand. He found Merlin slowly waking and went to him, lifting the boy up to his feet.

“What happened?” Merlin mumbled.

In a hushed voice, Arthur replied, “There is someone here.”

Merlin surveyed the damage done, and felt the residual effects of magic around him. There was something so familiar about the feeling, it was strange. He could’ve sworn he had felt it before… “No,” he whispered. “It can’t be.”

The soft sound of something connecting with the dirt distracted Arthur from Merlin’s odd behavior. The sound had come from up on the hill, and he climbed it quickly, not thinking of the consequences.

Reluctantly, Merlin followed, his head screaming at him. “Arthur,” he called, trying to slow the prince.

Arthur didn’t listen, and soon he had reached the top of the hill. In front of him lay a body, and for a second, a cold chill washed over him, shaking his bones.

“Don’t,” Merlin tried, but it was too late. Arthur had knelt down and turned the body over on its back, revealing its face. The resulting intake of breath from Arthur was enough to prove Merlin’s theory.

Arthur fell back from his crouch, landing in the dirt as he scrambled away. His broken fingers were forgotten as he pulled himself across the ground, trying to escape the shock. A short sob pushed it way out of his chest as he stopped moving. The forest was completely silent as the name escaped him, his voice cracking on the syllables.

“Morgana.”

\---

_Morgana woke screaming for the first time in nearly a year, her body soaked with sweat. It was a week before the encounter in the forest, and she was still safely hidden away on the Isle of the Blessed._

_Her ears were still ringing from the force of her own screams, the nightmare fresh in her mind. Ever since she had begun to master her powers, her dreams had been less frequent and nowhere near as severe. Until now._

_She had been working with Morgause and she had become so much stronger; her control of her powers was something to be envied, according to her sister. She was well on her way to becoming a High Priestess, but that would take more time and practice. Morgana wanted to please her sister, but part of her still longed for Camelot, even if being there would mean she would have to repress her true nature and live a life of fear. Truly, she only missed one thing. Arthur. That was why this nightmare shook her so much, she hadn’t seen his face clearly in so long, but it had been the most vivid thing in her dream. He was going to die, she had seen it. She saw those blue eyes closing for the very last time, and the terror she had felt was enough to make her forget all her reasons for staying away from him._

_By the time Morgause came in to check on her, Morgana had already packed up a few supplies and readied a boat to take her to the mainland._

_“Where are you going, Morgana?”_

_Morgana was accustomed to her sister sneaking up on her, and she didn’t even bother to turn around. “I had a dream. Arthur is going to die, and I have to stop it.”_

_Morgause shook her head. She had expected something like this was going to happen. “You’re not ready, Morgana. We have a plan, remember? I have almost convinced Cenred to join us, if you only wait a bit longer—”_

_“I have to go now.” Morgana interrupted. “It’s going to happen soon, I can feel it.”_

_On a sigh, Morgause pleaded, “Morgana, be reasonable. You cannot simply throw away everything we’ve worked for.”_

_Morgana tied her cloak around her shoulders, keeping her back turned to Morgause. “I cannot let him die. If he dies, nothing else matters.”_

_Morgause scoffed at her foolish sister. “Come now. He is a Pendragon, he is part of what we are fighting against.”_

_“I won’t quarrel about this with you, sister.”_

_“And what happens after you save him? Do you honestly think you two will get to live happily ever after?” Morgause’s words were dripping with condescension._

_“I don’t know,” Morgana admitted. “I just know I have to save him.”_

_“You left him to think you were dead, sister. He won’t welcome you back with open arms after that,” Morgause argued. “But he will tell his father, and as soon as Uther knows you are alive, you are at risk of his wrath.” Her tone softened as she continued, “Do not do this. You are not ready to fight him yet.”_

_Pulling her bag over her shoulder, Morgana countered, “I don’t want to fight anymore. I stayed here so that I could be free to be myself, but what does that matter if I’m alone?”_

_“You’re not alone—”_

_Morgana whirled around, facing her sister. “But I am. We sit here doing spells and making plans, but neither of us is happy.”_

_“I will be happy when Uther is no more.”_

_“Perhaps. But I am still going.” She stepped into the boat and prepared to push off the shore._

_“Sister, please,” Morgause begged._

_Sighing, Morgana glanced back at her sister. “I only wish to save him. I will try my best to go unnoticed.”_

_Morgause smiled and watched her sister go; she knew that a new plan would be necessary now._

\---

Morgana slowly awoke to the feeling of a rocking rhythm under her and the solid weight of something familiar against her back. She opened her eyes and realized she was on a horse, and there was another rider holding her up in the saddle. Paralyzing fear shot through her veins as she recognized the view in front of her. She was being taken to Camelot.

She hadn’t planned for this. Despite her fight with her sister, she hadn’t actually wanted Arthur to see her. Her plan was to save Arthur and leave, but the amount of magic required to take out all the bandits had been more than she expected. On the Isle, she was constantly surrounded by the presence of magic, and it made it easy for her to practice. On her own, the spells had been too much, and she had fainted from exhaustion.

Closing her eyes, she tried to feign sleep once more, unable to face reality just yet. She could feel a strong arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her upright. The warmth from the hand pressing against her stomach was keeping her awake, and the scent surrounding her was causing her neurons to rapidly fire. Arthur. It was Arthur holding her. She was going to have to face him, and the idea was terrifying.

The castle loomed in front of her, as did her uncertain fate.

\---

As soon as she arrived in the city, everyone seemed to be staring. It was as if an explosion had gone off, and no one could take their eyes away. Everyone knew of her return within the hour, even though no one had said a word. Including Arthur. He hadn’t spoken to her once. He set her down carefully on the ground and walked away without a glance. It was Merlin who took her to see Gaius, and Merlin who helped her up to her bed.

The physician confirmed that she was in good health, and after a few tests conducted by Merlin, it was decided that she was in fact, herself, and not someone masquerading around with her face. All the scrutiny was uncomfortable, but she allowed it. It was better than facing Arthur’s silence, plus it gave her time to come up with a convincing cover story. She was kicking herself for not planning it out before, but she had always been quick on her feet.

After a few hours of rest, during which she seriously contemplated climbing out the window, she went to see Uther. 

The king put on a big show, acting as though he had missed her more than anything in the world. It made Morgana nauseous, but she endured. She told a tale of washing up on foreign shores and being healed by strangers. Apparently, she explained, she had been on the brink of death, and if it hadn’t been for the people who found her, she would never have reawakened. 

Uther remained quiet, and it was unclear if he was saddened by her tale, or suspicious.

Morgana continued on, explaining that on her perilous journey home, she had been captured. According to her story, she had been taken and kept under lock and key for months, until she finally found a chance to escape. The tale was all quite dramatic, and she found herself wrapped up in the lies. She even managed to cry a few tears over it.

By the end, Uther seemed satisfied, and he welcomed her home. Morgana gave him a saccharine smile and left, praying that her story would be enough to keep him from digging deeper and figuring out the truth.

\---

Her first days back were filled with happy faces and pushy inquirers, everyone desperate to hear her story of revival from the dead, though some hid it better than others. They all gave her warm embraces and offered her a listening ear, but none of them truly cared. Outside of the constant questioning and showering of condolences, Morgana was completely alone. She had expected something so different of her homecoming. Other than the curiosity, no one wanted to see her, or talk to her. Merlin was distant, no doubt from his residual guilt, combined with a healthy dose of wariness. Gwen was quiet and reserved, and when Morgana would try to talk, the maid would almost jump out of her skin before making some excuse to leave. It was as though Morgana had never come back to life, and she was simply a ghost in the castle. She frightened people now, it seemed. And the one person she had hoped would be immune to the strange effects was actually the worst of them all.

Arthur hadn’t come to see her, he wouldn’t talk to her; he couldn’t even look at her. It didn’t make any sense. She knew he would be surprised, but to completely freeze her out? After four days of it, she started to lose hope.

Shoving her belongings into a bag, she mumbled to herself, “I should’ve stayed away.” She could practically hear her sister’s taunting laughter in her ears. This was a horrible decision; there was nothing left for her here. 

As she turned to pick up her cloak, she caught sight of someone standing at the foot of her bed. Her hand flew to her chest as she gasped, and the cloak slipped from her fingers. 

The figure didn’t move, despite Morgana’s display.

Morgana moved closer, trying to figure out what was happening. Perhaps she was dreaming. “Arthur?” she questioned. 

“You were going to leave,” he muttered. His voice was cold and his face shuttered. It was clear that he was struggling.

Swallowing, Morgana replied, “I was considering it.”

“Why?” The one word was heartbreaking, and Morgana flinched at the sound.

“I don’t know. It just… it doesn’t feel right,” she admitted.

Arthur nodded slowly, processing her answer. “Don’t,” he returned. Having said his piece, he spun on his heel and walked to the door.

Before Morgana could say anything else, he was gone. She collapsed onto her bed in a heap, the bag filled with her things now forgotten.

\---

Morgana watched the sun sink over the trees through her window. The town was still bustling, but it was obvious that the day was slowly winding down. She had stayed here for Arthur, but her mind kept thinking back to her sister. Morgause must have known this was a possibility, but Morgana still felt bad for leaving her like this. They had been so close, and she gave it away just to come home to a lonelier existence than before.

Unexpectedly, there was a knock at her door. She padded across the floor in her bare feet, the waning light making it difficult to see. Opening the door, she revealed Arthur standing there, looking contemplative.

“Arthur, what is it?” Morgana inquired. He had only been there a few hours before, when he had made his dramatic exit.

He took a breath and explained, “I need to know what happened.”

“I thought you would’ve heard from Uther by now.” It was clear from her voice that she was nervous; he knew her too well, he would never buy her lies.

“I want the truth, Morgana.”

And just like that, she felt her resolve crumbling. “Come in, Arthur.” She stepped aside, letting him enter the room before quietly shutting the door behind them. “It’s a long story,” she added, hoping he might not want to hear it.

“I have time.” He still couldn’t look her directly in the eyes, even when he spoke to her. He sat down in one of her chairs, waiting for an explanation.

With a sigh, Morgana walked over to him. She couldn’t sit down from her nerves, but she started to tell him the truth. “Part of it was true. I was in a suspended form of life; I nearly died from my wound. It took me a week to fully heal. And when I washed up on the shores of the Isle of the Blessed, someone did find me. It was Morgause. She stayed and watched over me.” 

“Morgause,” he spat, and it was unclear if the word was meant to sound questioning or not. Either way, the venom in his tone rang clear, and there was no mistaking his contempt for the woman. In his mind, Morgause had murdered Morgana, and there was no shaking that image.

“Yes,” she replied.

He shook his head in frustration. “You were never captured, were you?”

“No.” She held her breath for a few seconds, bracing herself.

Rising from the chair, Arthur finally gained the strength to look directly at Morgana’s face. “You chose to stay away?”

She knew that he wouldn’t understand. “It was complicated, Arthur. The reasons I stayed away, they made sense at the time, but I promise, I never wanted to. I didn’t want to leave you.”

“Yet you did.” He covered his face with his hand, scrubbing at his eyes as though he was trying to erase the sight of her.

“I was scared. Cheating death like that, it’s something only extremely powerful magic can achieve, and if Uther knew—”

He cut her off, with a stern, “I would’ve protected you, Morgana.” He sounded almost indignant that she didn’t trust him enough to save her.

Unable to hold it in, Morgana laughed darkly. “You would’ve failed.” Dragging a hand roughly through her hair, she ranted, “I was still too green, I couldn’t control my powers, it was only a matter of time before Uther discovered my gifts and had me killed. Even now he suspects me!”

Arthur’s temper was flaring, and he lashed out in anger. “So what was your plan, to never return? To leave everyone to think you were dead? To leave me?”

Desperately trying to justify her actions, she clarified, “I was going to come back. Once I was strong enough, I could have put an end to Uther’s reign and removed him from power.” 

His eyes narrowed at that. “You speak of treason, Morgana.”

Morgana’s eyebrows rose questioningly. “There was a time not too long ago when you would’ve welcomed Uther’s death as well, Arthur.”

“It’s different now. Much has changed since you left.” 

She let out another burst of harsh laughter. “You would support him? He is a tyrant, Arthur, and he wouldn’t so much as blink before putting a noose around my neck.”

The imagery was enough to make him flinch, but he hid it well, biting down on his cheek to keep himself focused. “At least he has been honest with me. I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

Her feet were moving towards him before she could stop them. She placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned in to him. “You know exactly who I am, Arthur.”

He didn’t respond, but he hadn’t pulled away either.

“You loved me once. You knew me better than anyone.”

As she leaned closer, his mind snapped to attention, and he pushed her back. “That was then.”

Morgana stumbled over her own feet, his rebuffing stinging her pride. She turned away from him as she started to understand. “When you said that things had changed…”

“I’ve changed,” he finished.

The underlying message was glaring at her, and it hurt to breathe. “You don’t love me,” she whispered, choking on the words.

He didn’t answer; he couldn’t.

“You should go,” she breathed, the words too fragile in her mouth.

He did as she asked, her words still weighing heavy on his mind.

\---

As morning broke, Morgana found it nearly impossible to get out of bed. She didn’t know what to do next. Part of her desperately wanted to stay, to let Arthur see that she was still the same, but part of her wanted to leave and never return. She had disrupted everyone’s lives, and she could find no reason why staying would be better than leaving. After debating for several minutes, she decided she would see Arthur one last time today. She would ask him for a reason to stay, and if he didn’t give it…

Throwing off her covers, she faced the day. She dressed herself, since Guinevere was nowhere to be found, as usual. It was tiring, having everyone ignore her. Scrapping her plan to visit Arthur, she chose to see Gwen instead. The girl couldn’t possibly resent her as much as Arthur did; she didn’t even know of Morgana’s magic, there’s no way she wouldn’t buy the story of her capture. 

Morgana pulled on a cloak and a pair of boots and headed to the lower town. If she was going to stay here, she at least needed her friend by her side again. 

The sky was turning a dark shade of gray, and Morgana tugged up her skirts and walked a bit faster, hoping to beat the rain. After traveling down the dirt covered streets, she reached Guinevere’s door. She rose a hand to knock, but hesitated as she heard voices coming from inside. Gwen wasn’t alone, it seemed, and Morgana didn’t want to interrupt, but the sky was growing darker, and she didn’t want her trip to be wasted, so she hovered by the door for a moment, listening.

Gwen’s voice floated through the crack in the door. “Be realistic. She’s back now, and that changes things.”

A male voice followed, “It doesn’t have to, Guinevere.”

“It changes everything!” Gwen shouted.

Morgana felt bad for eavesdropping, but she was curious. That voice, she knew that voice, but the wooden barrier was distorting the sound.

“She left, she made her choice.”

Gwen laughed. “You make it sound like she wanted this to happen.”

The man paused before saying, “It doesn’t matter. I’ve made my choice too, and I choose you.”

Morgana felt the sting of a raindrop on her neck, and it startled her. She jumped slightly, knocking her shoulder into the door. The door swung open from the push and revealed the couple inside. Morgana was prepared to apologize for barging in, but the words stuck in her throat. She had thought that voice was familiar.

Arthur was standing there, his arms wound around Gwen’s back. Gwen had the decency to look ashamed at being caught, but Arthur’s face was unreadable.

Morgana’s shock slowly wore off, and her lips dropped into an angry frown. She stepped backwards into the doorway, letting her anger take over to repress her pain. “Well, this clears things up, doesn’t it?” she asked bitterly, the question directed more to herself.

Arthur dropped his arms as Gwen tugged away from him. He mumbled, “Morgana…”

Scoffing at his lame attempt, Morgana moved out further into the rain. She shook her head, unable to say anything else for fear that she’d lose her tenuous control of her emotions if she spoke.

Arthur tried to follow her, his body finally catching up to his overloaded brain. “Morgana,” he tried again. “Wait.”

Morgana was getting drenched as the clouds burst above her, her clothes sticking to her skin, but she kept moving back. As Arthur neared the door, Morgana lifted a hand and slammed the door shut with her magic, locking it with an invisible seal.

“Morgana!” Arthur started banging on the door from the inside, but his cries were muffled by the rain. “Morgana!”

Morgana started running through the streets, ignoring the ongoing screams from Arthur. The rain continued to pour, and her boots splashed mud all over her dress as she ran. She found herself at the stables and grabbed a horse without thinking. She jumped on the horse bareback, too upset to bother with a saddle. She rode for hours, with no clear direction in mind; she just watched the trees fly by in a blur as the rain clouded her eyes.

After riding at a breakneck pace for an extended amount of time, the horse eventually stopped from exhaustion. Morgana slid off its back and landed on the ground, surveying her surroundings. She was at a lake, and there was a boat at its edge. It seemed that in her desperation, she had ridden back to her sister without even realizing it.

Once the horse was securely tied up, Morgana got in the boat and rowed it out to the isle. As soon as she reached the shores, she jumped out of the boat and ran up to the tower, calling out for her sister. “Morgause!”

The blonde descended from the stairs, looking gorgeous in her red gown. In comparison, Morgana looked haggard, with her wet hair and ruined clothes.

Morgana blurted, “You were right.” She shook her head, the raindrops falling off her curls as they moved.

Morgause cocked her head, but kept quiet.

“What’s our plan now?” Morgana asked. She was done with Camelot and everyone in it. She had no reason to care for them, she just wanted revenge.

A smile slowly graced Morgause’s lips, the small movement wrapped up with a hundred secrets. “You, my sister, are going back to Camelot.”


	2. The Tears of Uther Pendragon

After listening to Morgause’s new and carefully formulated plan to take down Uther, Morgana agreed to go back to Camelot. She didn’t want to be near anyone in that city ever again, but her presence inside the walls was pivotal for the plan to work. Morgause needed someone on the inside, and who better than Camelot’s prodigal daughter?

Morgana took with her a mandrake root, which would be used to poison Uther’s mind. The plan was simple, to discredit Uther as a king by making him go mad. No one would support a king with an addled mind, and finally Morgana and everyone else would be free of his rule.

Morgause kept the next stages of her plan a secret, but Morgana knew that her sister had been consorting with Cenred, and they were undoubtedly concocting some sort of takeover. Usually this would worry Morgana, but she couldn’t find it in her to care about anyone in Camelot anymore. Morgause could do with them as she wished.

Morgana rode back to the city the next day, her head held high. She dumped her ruined clothes out in the hall, leaving them for a maid to collect. She wouldn’t dare summon Gwen, not after what she had witnessed. She would make do on her own; she had been doing it for a year, after all.

Once she had an opportunity, she placed the mandrake root in Uther’s room, and set the plan into motion. They had no idea the enemy they had created in her, but they soon would regret it.

\---

Merlin had just finished cleaning the floors when Arthur stormed into his room, looking distressed. The prince roughly tugged his shirt over his head and kicked his boots off, sending them flying across the room.

“Something wrong, sire?” Merlin asked.

“Morgana,” he mumbled.

Merlin rolled his eyes. He should’ve guessed. “What happened?”

“She’s gone, Merlin. She saw…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “She left, _again._ ” He sighed. 

“Um, Arthur?” Merlin interjected, but he was ignored.

Arthur continued on talking as he paced around the room. “I’ll have to send out a search party to appease my father, but I doubt we’ll find her.”

“Arthur,” Merlin tried again.

“If she would just listen to me, but no, she has to run away. Always running,” he grumbled, completely oblivious to Merlin’s attempts to get his attention. 

Unable to stand it any longer, Merlin yelled, “Arthur!”

Arthur snapped his focus down to his manservant, annoyed at being interrupted. “What?”

Resisting the urge to hit Arthur over the back of the head, Merlin explained, “Morgana’s still here. I only saw her a few moments ago, out in the hall.”

Arthur blinked several times, processing the information. “Oh.”

“I guess she decided that she wanted to stay after all.”

Arthur let out a groan and covered his face with his hands. “That damn woman is going to drive me insane.”

\---

Over the next few days, Morgana avoided Arthur like the plague. Thankfully, the mandrake root did its work quickly, and Uther’s sickness kept Arthur distracted. The plan was working perfectly, Uther was steadily losing his mind, and in turn his people were losing their faith in him. The mandrake’s poison displayed as a completely normal illness, so no one suspected foul play, which meant that Morgana was safe for now. She wasn’t free of Gwen’s guilt-riddled glances and Arthur’s lingering glares, however. 

Arthur had only tried to talk to her once, but Morgana blew out her candles and pretended to be asleep, refusing to let him in her room. He banged on her door for ten minutes before collapsing to the floor, resting against the wall. Merlin found him there hours later and carried him to his room, but Morgana didn’t know that detail.

After allowing Uther to deteriorate for a few days, Morgana went to meet her sister to learn the next stage of the plan. They met out in the woods, hidden away from the prying eyes of anyone in Camelot.

“Sister,” Morgause greeted, a smile on her lips.

Morgana tried to return the smile, but she no longer found much joy in anything, her heart was too hardened.

Morgause noticed the cold reception, but she didn’t comment. Morgana may be hurting now, but soon she would have everything she ever wanted, and all would be fine. “I take it things have gone well?”

Morgana nodded. “Camelot will soon find itself without a ruler. Uther is no longer fit to rule a kingdom, and the people have taken notice.”

With a smirk, Morgause commented, “As has Cenred. I have nearly convinced him and his army to march on Camelot.”

It didn’t come as much of a surprise, but strangely, Morgana still felt a pang in her chest upon hearing the words. “Good,” she murmured, the word cracking in her throat.

“You don’t sound pleased.”

Morgana shook her head, clamping down on the emotions she felt resurging in her chest. “No. This is what I want. You can burn the city to the ground.”

Cocking her head, Morgause asked, “And what of Arthur?”

Hearing his name reminded her of the raw wound she was trying so hard to ignore. Biting down on the inside of her cheek, she breathed in through her nose and calmed her nerves. “He is not the man I thought. He will do no better on the throne than his father.”

Morgause looked pleased; she had finally convinced Morgana to completely let go of her old life. “I’m glad you’ve seen reason, Morgana. Meet me here in three days time, by then Cenred’s army will be ready to march on Camelot.”

Morgana nodded stiffly in acceptance. She stood frozen in place as her sister placed a kiss on her cheek before leaving. Shutting her eyes for a moment, she breathed in the cool forest air and tried to force herself to believe that this was the right decision.

She returned to the castle later that night, unaware of the pair of eyes watching her from the dark. 

\---

Arthur was dealing with so many things in his life, he felt like he was being ripped in a million different directions. It had been hard enough dealing with the eruption of feelings that had threatened to drown him when he saw Morgana again, but now with his father sick, he was losing his grip completely. The tides were sucking him under, and he had nothing to keep him afloat.

Guinevere had tried to comfort him, but she was reserved, distant every since Morgana returned. He knew that she was worried, and feeling guilty, and he couldn’t fault her for that. But Morgana had chosen to leave him a long time ago; he couldn’t lose Guinevere as well. Not when his whole world was coming apart.

The worst part of his father getting sick wasn’t even the crushing weight of responsibility falling on his shoulders, not entirely, and that’s what made it all so confusing. The worst part was that he had to do it alone. The last time he had imagined himself on the throne as king, it was with Morgana by his side. He didn’t want to admit it, especially not after everything that had happened between them, but he needed her with him. He craved her presence, her words of wisdom. Before, she would’ve had some brilliant advice and encouraged him with a sly smile, but not anymore. She had completely shut him out, and while he thought that he could handle it, it was like a knife in the gut. His heart throbbed every time he saw her, and it was driving him mad. He didn’t want her here, but he couldn’t stand the thought of her leaving. He didn’t know what to do.

Still stuck in his turbulent thoughts, he went to visit his father again. As he entered the room, he caught Morgana standing above Uther’s bed. His mouth fell open, and he gaped like a fish for a second.

His entrance startled her, and she turned to glare at him. She didn’t like being caught, but knew how to hide her secrets well.

Arthur stood there in shock for a moment before getting his mouth to work again. “I didn’t think I’d see you in here.”

Morgana rolled her eyes. “I am allowed to visit my guardian, am I not?” Truthfully, she had only come in to replace the mandrake root under the bed, but Arthur couldn’t know that.

Arthur’s lips turned down into a frown. Unaware of her ulterior motives, he assumed that Morgana was only here to gloat over his father’s illness. Trying to put aside his frustration, he took the opportunity to finally speak to her. “Morgana, we should talk.”

With a huff, she sneered, “There’s nothing to talk about, Arthur.”

“You don’t have the whole story,” he tried. It was taking all he had to keep his tone even as he spoke, the urge to yell was overwhelming.

“You moved on, Arthur. I get it. To you, I was cold in the ground, so why not jump on my maid?” Her hands were starting to shake, and she wanted to escape. Escape this room, this conversation, escape his knowing blue eyes.

Through gritted teeth, he countered, “It wasn’t like that.”

“It doesn’t matter, Arthur.” She headed for the door, hoping that he would move out of her way so she could leave.

His temper was flaring, and he grabbed her by the arm as she tried to walk past. “It does matter,” he fumed. “Losing you almost killed me; you don’t get to judge me for what happened after. You weren’t here.”

She yanked her arm out of his grip, her eyes narrowed and her mouth set in a hard line. “And you think that staying away was easy for me?”

“That was your choice!” he snapped. “You made that decision, not me.”

“Just like you decided to go after Gwen,” she replied angrily. Unable to help herself, she added, “Really, Arthur, of all the women…” She could feel her fingernails cutting into her palm as she clenched her fist.

“At least I can trust her,” he retorted. He could barely hear his own voice; his ears were ringing so loudly from the force of his anger.

Morgana scoffed. If he wanted to play house with her maid, that was fine. She wouldn’t stop him. “Well, I hope you two will be very happy together.” She forcefully shoved at his shoulder, pushing him to the side. Without looking back, she left the room, immediately joining a crowd of people in the hall to help her escape.

Arthur half collapsed into the chair by his father’s bed, feeling hopeless and empty again as the anger drained away.

\---

After the three days had passed, Morgana went out to meet her sister again. As she left the palace, she could feel that someone was tailing her, but she was waiting for the perfect moment to confront them.

She entered the clearing in the woods and found Morgause and some of her Blood Guard dismounting from their horses.

Morgana greeted her sister with a brief embrace. “How are things with Cenred?”

“His army is marching on Camelot as we speak. Soon the kingdom will be ours,” Morgause answered.

Forcing a smile, Morgana nodded her head. “They will find no resistance there. Uther is no threat to anyone this way.”

Morgause grasped Morgana’s hands in her own. “Then everything is in order.”

After a beat, Morgana pulled her hands back. “Not quite. Someone suspects me.”

“Is it Arthur?” Morgause asked. She feared for her sister’s life if Arthur were to know of her treachery.

“No.” Morgana turned to look out into the dark forest. “It is someone else.” Striding across the clearing, she bent over a ridge and stared down into Merlin’s face. “And here he is.”

Merlin jumped up from his hiding space, backing away from Morgana. “Morgana, you cannot do this.”

Morgana laughed at his pathetic plea. “Oh, but I can.”

The Blood Guard advanced on Merlin, starting a chase. The men were too strong and too quick, and they caught Merlin a few yards away. They easily subdued him, knocking him to the ground.

Morgana caught up to the men and kneeled down to look at Merlin. “My quarrel isn’t with you, Merlin. But I cannot let you interfere with this.”

“Morgana, don’t. Please,” he begged.

She mockingly pouted at him, unfazed by his words. “I don’t want to kill you, Merlin. But since I can’t have you following me, either…” She held out a hand and conjured up a long section of enchanted chains. With a flick of her wrist, the chains wound tightly around Merlin’s body.

He squirmed against the chains, but they only got tighter as he moved.

“By the time the enchantment on the chains wears off, Camelot will be relieved of the Pendragon reign. You will be free to practice your magic openly and without fear, Merlin. We all will. You’ll see.” Somewhere deep inside, she knew that she was only seeing what she wanted, but it was the only way she could accept the plan. Casualties were a necessary part of war, whether she liked it or not, and while people would die, so many people would be saved too.

As Morgana stood and walked away, Merlin struggled harder against the chains. “Morgana, please!”

She ignored his cries and mounted her horse. There was a war coming, and she had to get back to Camelot before it started.

\---

News of Cenred’s army marching on Camelot spread quickly, and Arthur was forced to make plans. He reluctantly took up the duty of making decisions for the kingdom in his father’s absence. Ideas were mentioned of giving Cenred land or money to appease him, but Arthur refused to back down. He would not look weak; his father wouldn’t have wanted that. So he decided to prepare the city for siege. 

They would be going to war.

As he announced the news, Morgana stood off the in corner, a grin slowly spreading on her lips.

\---

Luckily for Merlin, Morgana was unaware of his Dragonlord abilities. He was able to summon Kilgharrah to come and save him from the clearing where Morgana had abandoned him. Despite their rocky past, Kilgharrah had no choice but to respond to Merlin’s call. The dragon broke the chains, and even flew Merlin safely back to Camelot.

Once Merlin returned, he immediately went to Gaius and explained what was happening. He knew that Morgana must have done something to Uther, so he and the physician paid a visit to the king.

They found him curled up in a corner, mumbling to himself. Uther didn’t even recognize that anyone else was in the room with him; he was too terrified by his own delusions.

Merlin frantically searched the room for the source of the enchantment. There had to be something here, he felt it.

As Uther fell quiet for a rare moment, Merlin heard a faint dripping sound coming from under the bed. Dropping to his knees, Merlin looked beneath the mattress, finding a dark, oozing root hanging there. He snatched it from where hung and produced it to Gaius.

Gaius seemed to recognize the object, and he nodded. Uther’s cries increased in volume upon seeing the root, and their suspicions were confirmed. Merlin hurled the object into the fireplace, letting the flames destroy it.

The cries that emitted from the dying root were piercing, but they soon slowed and came to a halt. As the root turned to ash, Uther visibly began to relax. Gaius helped up the king, and they put him to bed. He may be free from the hallucinations, but the stress had taken a toll on him, and he would need to rest.

Merlin and Gaius left the king, leaving him to his sleep. 

As they walked, Gaius turned to Merlin. “There are some things you need to know, Merlin.”

They discussed the coming war and Arthur’s plans. Merlin knew he couldn’t stop the army, but he still had a chance to stop Morgana, and that’s what he would do.

\---

The next day, as the city was readying for war, Morgana walked through the castle, trying to say goodbye to everything she had known before. This was for the best, it had to be. Uther was a tyrant, and he had poisoned his son as well. Magic would never be welcome here, not unless she did something to change things.

She was wrapped up in her thoughts and almost missed the dark haired servant as he walked towards her. Her senses were sharper now that she had been working as a traitor, however, and she whirled around to grab him as he moved past her. “You,” she hissed. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Someone had to stop you,” Merlin quipped.

Morgana grabbed his wrist tightly and dragged him off to the side of the hall, speaking in hushed tones. “Do not get in my way, Merlin.”

Even after being manhandled, he managed a smug smile. “How will Arthur feel when he knows that you have brought this war on his kingdom?”

Her nails bit into his skin as she squeezed his wrist harder. “You forget, Merlin, that I know your darkest secret. You will do well to keep quiet, unless you want to have your head on the spike next to mine.” 

His expression softened, some of his cocky demeanor slipping away. He feared her, as he should, but he knew that there was more to her than this. He had seen it. “You trusted me once, Morgana; believe me when I say this isn’t the right decision.”

She roughly released his arm, shoving it back. “Just stay out of my way,” she reiterated, before storming off in the other direction.

\---

Morgana soon discovered that Merlin had broken the enchantment on Uther, but it didn’t deter her. She went to see her sister again, hoping for good news.

Morgause met her in the woods again, and she did bear a positive development. “Cenred’s army is less than a day away. They will be there before the next sunset.”

Morgana explained that Merlin had escaped and was a threat, but Morgause was not concerned.

“Do not fret, Morgana. I have a task for you, one that will ensure that even Merlin cannot save Camelot.” Morgause pulled a tall staff out of her cloak and presented it to Morgana.

Morgana stared in awe at its beauty. She could feel the power emanating from it even at a distance.

“It is carved from the Rowan tree that grows at the very heart of the Isle of the Blessed,” Morgause explained.

Morgana felt a wave of nervous energy rush over her. “My magic is still weak; I do not have the strength to wield such an instrument.”

Morgause smiled. “Do not worry, Morgana, the staff carries its own power. It will guide you”

Morgana stared quizzically at the staff. “And what is it that I must do?”

“Cenred’s army alone cannot take the city. We need your help from the inside.”

Her help. Morgana swallowed the lump in her throat. She had set this all into motion; she should’ve known she’d have to get her hands dirty.

“Morgana?” Morgause questioned.

Shaking away the worrying thoughts, Morgana nodded and forced a smile. “I’ll do whatever is necessary.”

\---

The whole city was preparing for the battle, gathering supplies and weapons and fortifying the gates. Arthur was in his room, putting on his armor for the upcoming fight. As Merlin helped him to get ready, he heard a knock on the door. 

It was strange, for a brief moment, his heart seemed to swell with the hope that it was Morgana on the other side of the door. He hadn’t had that feeling in a long time. He had long since stopped searching for her around every corner, but now he had reason to expect to see her face outside of his dreams, and it was startling to realize how much he had missed feeling this way.

However, it wasn’t Morgana, but Guinevere who opened the door. The yearning ache in his chest was replaced with a comforting warmth upon seeing her face. She walked up to him with a shy smile on her lips. Merlin excused himself and allowed the two of them to have time to talk.

Gwen couldn’t quite meet Arthur’s gaze, her guilt was still flaring every time she caught herself longing for his touch, or for his blue eyes to land upon her face. Settling on looking at his chest instead, she murmured, “I know things have been difficult lately, between us.”

Arthur chuckled low in his chest despite himself. That was an understatement.

“But I do care for you, Arthur, you know that. And I wanted to come and see you, to tell you that, before…” she trailed off.

Arthur placed two fingers under Gwen’s chin and tilted her face up, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “Everything is going to be fine. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that, Arthur,” she chided. She turned her head to the side, pulling away from his fingers.

He let his hand fall to his waist as she moved. “I have faith in Camelot, in our people. We will survive this, Guinevere.”

Gwen smiled sweetly, impressed with his conviction. “You sound like a true king, Arthur. Camelot is in safe hands.”

He smiled in return, even though he wasn’t as confident about his leading the kingdom as she was. “As long as I have you here to remind me of that, everything will be alright.”

Heat crept up in her cheeks, and she looked back down at her hands. After staring intently at her fingernails, she recalled her purpose for coming here and shoved her hand into her pocket. She pulled a scrap of material out and brought it up to show him. “Here. I wanted you to have this.”

Arthur watched as she slowly tied the material around his arm. “Thank you, Guinevere.”

She bowed her head and turned to leave before he could convince her to stay. 

Arthur let her go, still staring at the scrap of yellow cotton on his arm.

\---

Surprisingly, Gwen came and offered to help Morgana don her armor as well. Gwen knew Morgana better than most, and she had suspected that Morgana would try and join the fight. It was a nice gesture, but Morgana refused and sent the girl away. She asked another servant for their assistance instead. As much as she missed having Gwen there to laugh and talk with, she couldn’t bear to do it now. 

She stared out the window as the strange serving girl behind her tightened her armor. She could see all the people from the lower town moving into the city, carrying what few belongings they could manage on their backs. These people didn’t deserve to die, and it hurt to see them like this. But, she reasoned, was it any fairer that she would be put to death for simply having magic? No. These people were unfortunate casualties, but she had no choice. It was her or them.

She heard footsteps behind her, and right after that, felt a sharp tug in her back as the servant stumbled all over herself and yanked something too tight. Morgana rolled her eyes, knowing that only one person could cause a girl to flounder in such a way. She turned to the girl over her shoulder and ordered, “You’re excused.”

The girl ran from the room, nearly tripping over her own feet.

Morgana slowly turned around to face her visitor, a sigh dropping from her lips. “Arthur.”

He studied her carefully before blurting, “You’re not going to fight, Morgana.”

A harsh bark of a laugh echoed through the room as Morgana took in his statement. “I can fight better than most of your men, Arthur.”

“I’m serious, Morgana, you shouldn’t be on the battlefield.” 

Morgana noticed that he was clenching and unclenching his fists, trying to maintain control. She scoffed. “You cannot stop me if I want to be there, Arthur.”

He shut his eyes tightly, desperately trying not to scream at her. He opened them slowly, taking a breath. “Please, Morgana.”

She cocked her head, his pleading tone catching her interest.

“I can’t lose you again,” he admitted.

His admission sounded so honest and sincere, and Morgana suddenly wanted nothing more than to make him happy. She sighed and gave in to his request. “Fine. I’ll stay in the castle.” To be honest, she was planning on that anyway, but she had enjoyed pushing his buttons.

Her acquiescence was unexpected, and Arthur grinned at her before he could properly think about it.

For a brief moment, things felt normal again. They were Arthur and Morgana, the way they had always been. Morgana started to return his smile, but a flash of yellow caught her eye, and the corners of her lips immediately dropped. “Don’t you have an army to command?” she inquired in a snarky tone. 

His smile vanished. He nodded curtly and turned his back on her, leaving her to fume on her own.

She angrily tugged her cover over her shoulders, suddenly feeling a chill on the air.

\---

Cenred’s army reached the city by nightfall, and the fighting began. Morgana watched anxiously from her window, waiting for the right moment to use the staff. As much as she wanted to destroy Uther, she found herself cringing every time she saw a knight getting cut down or a battlement set on fire. This was her city, despite the fact that she no longer felt safe in its walls. Some of these people had been kind, had helped her.

She gripped the edge of the windowsill until her knuckles turned white. She had to keep it together. This was for the greater good. 

She let her head fall against the glass and held her breath. It was going to be fine.

\---

Arthur and his knights had been thrown into the melee as Cenred’s army covered more ground. They had nearly taken the lower town, gradually pushing towards the citadel. Arthur was doing well fighting them off, killing dozens of men before they could even raise their swords. Yet, they kept coming.

Merlin was out in the square, trying his best to protect Arthur. He attempted to fight in the battle, but there were too many people around for him to use his magic without being detected. He was forced to use a sword instead, which was difficult. He lacked the training and the finesse to sword fight, but he refused to let Arthur fight alone.

As Merlin fought off one of Cenred’s men, he caught a glimpse of long brown hair and a green cloak flying by as someone weaved through the mayhem. He instantly recognized the slender figure and knew that it was Morgana, and that she was up to something. He made one last swipe with his sword at his attacker before running after Morgana, letting the knights handle the rest of the fighting.

Merlin followed her down to the burial chambers below the castle. As Morgana entered the room, she removed her cloak and let it drop to the floor, revealing a wooden staff as she did.

For a moment, Merlin simply watched her, trying to assess what the best course of action was. If it came to a fight between them, he truly wasn’t sure who would win.

Morgana held up the staff and studied it in the dim light of the chamber. The staff had led her here, and she knew what it wanted her to do, but she was torn. This instrument had the power to summon the dead, creating an army of creatures that couldn’t be killed. It was the perfect way to ensure that Camelot would lose this fight, but still she hesitated. She knew that this was what Morgause would want, but did she want it too?

Merlin accidentally bumped into a statue, causing a small piece to break and clatter to the floor. The sound reverberated through the small space, and Morgana stiffened as she heard it.

Spinning on her heel, Morgana turned towards the source of the sound. Her eyes fell on Merlin, and she shook her head. Of course he was here. “Merlin,” she muttered. “What are you doing here?”

“I think you know,” he answered. He straightened up and walked out of his hiding place, coming out to face her.

She forcefully expelled a breath out of her lungs in frustration. “I would think you of all people would understand, Merlin. You know how it feels, to be ashamed of who and what you are. Aren’t you tired of having to hide?”

He dipped his head in a nod. “I do understand. But this isn’t the way.”

Morgana looked back and forth from Merlin to the staff in her hands. She shut her eyes, and mournfully exclaimed, “I have to do this, Merlin.”

Merlin shook his head. “No, you don’t. I know that you feel alone, but you aren’t.”

She slowly opened her eyes to look at him.

He continued, “You have people here that care about you, Morgana. You don’t want to harm them, I know it. You’re better than all this.”

She gripped the staff tighter in her hands. “They would see me hanged if they knew who I really was.”

“Not all of them. Did you forget? I know you.” He stepped closer to her. “And so does Arthur. He would die before he let anyone hurt you.”

The inside of her cheek was beginning to bleed as she chewed on it to block out the thoughts of Arthur. 

Determined to change her mind, Merlin told her the only thing he could think of that would affect her. “When you were gone, he nearly went insane, Morgana. He searched for you every day. Losing you, it tore him apart.”

“No,” she whispered. The cool taste of copper flooded her mouth as she fought a mental war with herself.

“Yes,” he affirmed. “I was there; I heard him screaming in his sleep. I watched him struggle to breathe every time he walked past the room where you died.” He took a steadying breath, the memories painful even now. “It broke him.” He concluded, “You broke him.”

“Stop it!” She screamed, her chest heaving from the overload of emotion.

Ignoring her plea, he pushed on, knowing that he was getting through to her. “If you do this, if you betray him, he won’t recover. Not this time.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled, the words sticking on her tongue.

He implored, “Please, Morgana.” Then, softer, he added, “I know you still love him.”

She bit her cheek harder and shut her eyes, refusing to let Merlin see the pain there.

“We can find another way,” he begged.

Her hands shook, the staff suddenly feeling heavier than before. Maybe Merlin was right. This couldn’t be the only way to gain her freedom. There had to be something else, something that didn’t require so many innocent people to die. Morgause would understand, she had to. 

“Please.” Merlin's voice sounded far away as Morgana debated her decision.

She made up her mind, hoping it was the right choice. Apologizing to her sister in her thoughts, Morgana dropped the staff, letting it crack on the tiles.

Merlin watched with wide eyes, the surprise evident on his face.

Morgana opened her eyes again in time to see the smile on Merlin’s lips. She rolled her eyes at the sight. “Move, Merlin,” she demanded as she pushed past him.

Merlin swayed on his feet from the shove, confusion marring his features. “Where are you going?”

Over her shoulder, she explained, “I condemned this city to war; I’m going to do my part to save it.”

Merlin's grin spread wider as he watched her run up the steps leading out of the chamber.

\---

Morgana exited the castle and came out into the square, her sword held high. She jumped into the fight, expertly taking down several enemy soldiers with a few well-placed blows. She fought her way out of the square and out to the main battle on the edge of the city. The lower town was taken over, but the walls of Camelot still held fast, and the enemy could only trickle down into the city from their limited entry points.

As she neared the gates, she caught sight of Arthur’s golden hair in the moonlight. He was holding strong, fervently defending his kingdom, and it made Morgana smile. She was angry with him, she didn’t trust him, but she was starting to remember why she had placed so much faith in him so long ago. She may hate Uther, but there were people in this city still worth fighting for; she had forgotten that.

The clash of swords beside her reminded her that she was in the middle of a war, and she brought her sword back up, blocking attacks from Cenred’s soldiers. She only hoped that her sister would forgive her for this betrayal.

\---

Safe up on a hill a good distance away from the battle, Cenred and Morgause watched the fight unfold. Cenred was getting antsy, tired of waiting for Morgause’s traitor to hold up her end of the bargain. His army was slowly getting decimated, and he was not amused. “What of your traitor? She should’ve taken action by now.” 

Morgause shook her head. “Something must’ve happened, she wouldn’t betray us.” 

Cenred laughed bitterly. “I warned you of this, Morgause. Traitors cannot be trusted. Their allegiances are too easily bought.”

Morgause stared out over the city, hoping that her sister hadn’t lost her nerve.

\---

Arthur commanded his men as they fought, splitting them into groups to cover more ground. They may have lost the lower town, but they were winning back their city. The citadel was impregnable, and the enemy soldiers were losing their edge. Camelot would not fall tonight, Arthur was sure of it.

As he scanned the crowd to check on the success of his men, he noticed someone in the midst of the chaos that stood out from the rest. The warrior was fighting for Camelot, but it wasn’t one of his knights. It was… his breath caught as recognition hit him. “Morgana!” he bellowed.

Morgana heard her name from across the sea of bodies and turned towards it. She spotted Arthur fighting his way over to her through the horde. He cut down three men in his path and shoved several others, including one of his own knights, just to get to her.

“What are you doing?” he hissed as he reached her. He could only look at her in his peripheral vision in order to keep his eye on any attackers, but he caught glimpses of her messy hair and dirt-smudged cheeks.

Morgana felt his shoulder brush against hers as he fought beside her, and she replied, “I thought that would be obvious, Arthur.” She swung her sword to the left, slicing through the stomach of a combatant as they charged her.

“I told you not to fight!” Arthur spun and stabbed a soldier that was coming up behind Morgana, saving her from the sneak attack. 

Morgana laughed as she smashed the butt of her sword into someone’s nose. “And since when have I ever listened to you?”

Arthur growled low in his throat. “You are insufferable,” he complained before turning back and cutting the throat of another man.

As if to prove herself worthy of being there, Morgana leaped in front of Arthur to kill someone coming at him. She turned to him with a smug smile on her lips, her intricately braided hair swinging wildly.

Arthur grabbed her by the arm and spun her behind him to save her from a stray arrow flying at them. Using the momentum of the spin, he swung his sword and cut through two men.

Her back now pressed against his, she breathed, “You’re not getting rid of me, you know.” She fought off more men as they came at her and Arthur. With their backs pressed together, they started to move as a single entity, protecting each other from attacks on all sides.

Arthur sighed, knowing that it was useless to argue. Reaching his free arm back behind him, he looped it under Morgana’s arm and flipped their positions, pulling her with him as he turned.

Morgana smiled despite herself. “Just like old times.”

He rolled his eyes even though he knew she couldn’t see him. “If you’re referring to that fight in Caerleon, I thought we agreed that we should never speak of it again.”

She leaned back on Arthur, pushing him down as a sword arced over her head. “You’re just mad that I saved your life.”

He huffed, “We were children! And I saved yours as well.”

She chuckled. “I suppose we’re even, then.”

As more arrows soared through the sky, Arthur yanked hard on Morgana’s arm, twirling her around towards him until she collided with his chest. He held her tight and shielded her from the onslaught from above. The whizzing sound of arrows slowly faded, and Arthur looked down at Morgana. She was inches from his face, and he could feel the rhythm of her heavy breathing from where she was pressed to him.

Morgana was frozen, having him this close again was sending her mind into a freefall. Tilting her head up, she gazed into his eyes. God, she had missed him so.

Arthur felt himself drawn to her like a moth to a flame. He couldn’t control it, he was leaning in to her. The rest of the world had fallen away, the battle long forgotten.

Morgana’s eyes fluttered closed as he moved closer. The warmth of his breath caressed her lips, and she longed to throw her arms around him, but she didn’t dare move.

Just as their lips were about to touch, a loud horn sounded in the distance. Cenred was calling his men to retreat, and the battle was over. The noise startled both of them, and Arthur pulled away like he’d been burned.

It stung, the way he abandoned her body to the cold air as he let her go. Morgana ran a hand over her arm, trying to warm herself from the loss.

Arthur looked out over the blur of soldiers and saw that Cenred’s men were leaving the city. With a half-hearted smile on his lips, he commented, “I guess we won.”

Morgana nodded, the throbbing in her chest threatening to suffocate her. “I guess we did.”

The knights of Camelot all started to cheer, and they came and swept away their leader in a show of victory.

Morgana was left by herself as everyone celebrated around her; alone, just like before. She slowly followed the crowd as they rushed back to the square, watching Arthur from a distance. As the crowd of knights around him parted, Morgana caught sight of a girl in a yellow dress running down the castle steps.

Guinevere ran straight at Arthur and launched herself into his arms, embracing him tightly. The prince lifted her off the ground and spun her gently before setting her down. The smile on Gwen’s face was blinding.

Feeling nauseous, Morgana slipped away, letting them rejoice without her.

\---

After the fighting was done, Morgana went to the clearing in the woods, hoping that by some chance her sister would find her there. She ended up resting against the trunk of a large oak tree for hours, staying there until the first rays of sunlight shone through the trees as dawn broke over the horizon. She wanted to see Morgause, to apologize, and to simply feel the warmth of being near someone who loved her, but it seemed that her sister wasn’t coming.

The exhaustion from the day finally set in, and Morgana shut her eyes. She fell asleep there against the tree, basking in the feeling of the sun on her skin as she slept. Her problems would have to wait until tomorrow.


	3. Goblin's Gold

In the days after the attack on Camelot, the city was buzzing with life as people slowly rebuilt and made their way back to their homes. Morgana would watch through her window, feeling the crushing weight of guilt for her part in hurting these people. She regretted bringing war on this city; it wasn’t fair to blame them for Uther’s sins. It made her no better than him. 

She knew that Morgause wouldn’t see it that way, however, so she wasn’t surprised when she didn’t hear from her sister for a week. Morgause was no fool; she would’ve deduced what had happened here. As much as Morgana would like to lie and say that someone had stopped her, she couldn’t hide the truth.

After waiting and fretting for what felt like forever, Morgana received a note on her windowsill. It was from her sister, and it detailed a time and place for them to meet. There was an overwhelming feeling of relief that accompanied her reading the note, underlined by a sense of dread, as well.

After nightfall, Morgana rode out to the meeting place described in the note and waited for her sister’s arrival. The wind whistled through the trees and she tugged her cloak tighter around her, trying to keep warm. The soft rustling of fabric distracted her, and she missed the sound of someone walking up behind her.

“Sister.” Morgause announced her presence.

Morgana spun around, a hesitant smile on her lips. “Morgause,” she breathed. “I’m so glad to see you.”

The blonde didn’t return the sentiment; she stood frozen in place, assessing her younger sister. At first, when the plan had fallen through, she had been terrified for Morgana’s safety. It was easy to assume that Uther had discovered her treachery, but Morgause had a connection with her sister, she would’ve felt it if Morgana was in trouble. That left only one option. Her sister had been unable to carry out her duty.

Morgana waited patiently for her sister to say something. She had expected Morgause to ask what had happened, but the question never came. It got to the point where Morgana couldn’t stand the silence, and she apologized in a rush. “I’m sorry, sister. I failed you, and for that I apologize.” She took a breath, watching as her sister’s face remained unchanged, still frozen in a disappointed look. “I never wanted to betray you, but you must understand, I couldn’t condemn all those people to death. It is Uther who must pay, not his subjects. So many of them have shown me kindness, they didn’t deserve this.”

Morgause slowly cocked her head. “I see.”

Morgana bit her lip gently, worrying it between her teeth.

“You think you can trust these people, Morgana?” Morgause questioned, her voice eerily calm.

Stuttering, Morgana tried, “Perhaps not all of them, but who am I to pass judgment on them—”

Morgause stopped her sister mid-sentence. “You are not like them, Morgana. Never forget, while magic is banned, you will always be an outsider.”

“We can still fix that. If Uther is no more, we can change everyone’s minds; the city will be safe for everyone with magic.”

Morgause shook her head, smiling at her sister’s naivety. “How optimistic you are, sister. I fear that life will harden you soon enough.”

Morgana swallowed, the words stinging as they fell on her ears. Keeping her voice quiet, she whispered, “I still wish to help you, Morgause. If you’ll let me.”

Deep down, Morgause knew that this wouldn’t be the last time Morgana would lose her nerve when it came to the people of Camelot. The girl loved too easily and too recklessly, and she would end up paying for it in the end, possibly with her life. No, Morgana was not cut out for this war; but Morgause had no choice. She needed help if she was to have a chance of bringing down Uther. Besides, this was family; she would not turn her back on her own blood.

“I truly am sorry, Morgause. We can find another way.” Morgana found herself echoing Merlin’s words from before, the words that had given her hope and convinced her to betray her own sister.

Unable to resist her little sister, Morgause sighed. “I forgive you, Morgana. But I warn you, you should be more careful with your wavering allegiances in the future. Next time I may not be so forgiving.”

\---

Arthur entered his room to find it completely trashed. Merlin was in the middle of the chaos, throwing things around and crawling halfway under the bed. “Merlin.”

Merlin froze and pulled himself out from underneath the bed. “Arthur,” he returned, looking sheepish.

“ _What_ are you doing?” Arthur asked.

“I’m… spring cleaning!”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “It isn’t spring. And it certainly isn’t clean.”

“Well that’s because I’ve only just started!” Merlin exclaimed. He had a stupid grin on his face, secretly hoping that Arthur would buy the excuse.

A loud crash from the hall stole Arthur’s attention away from Merlin. “What was that?”

Merlin ran forward and placed a hand on Arthur’s chest. “Why don’t I go check? You stay here.” Merlin ducked out into the hall and disappeared after the goblin he was chasing.

Arthur picked up one of his shoes before dropping it disinterestedly back to the floor. Merlin would clean it up, along with the rest of his room. Shoving some debris off his chair, he sat down, propping his feet up on the table. He closed his eyes briefly, tired from training earlier in the day. However, he was only able to relax for a few minutes before a loud scream broke the silence.

Arthur jumped out his chair, nearly tripping over his own feet as he scrambled to move. He bolted down the hall, knowing without stopping to think exactly where the scream had come from. He rounded the corner and found Morgana’s door open, with her standing in the middle, looking furious.

Morgana’s room was in a state of disarray, just as Arthur’s was. She was picking up stray pieces of jewelry that were littering the floor and grumbling to herself.

Realizing that there wasn’t any immediate danger, Arthur leaned casually against the doorjamb and chuckled to himself.

Morgana whipped around at the sound of Arthur’s laughter. “You think this is funny?”

He shrugged, the satisfied smile still on his lips. “You got off easy. My room is much worse.”

Morgana’s forehead creased in confusion. “You know who did this?”

He nodded. “Merlin is spring cleaning, apparently.”

“It’s not spring!” Morgana fumed. “And he’s not my servant!” She roughly threw her trinkets back into her jewelry box.

“He’s not that bright,” Arthur said by means of explanation. He was accustomed to Merlin’s strange quirks.

Morgana huffed, “Well, tell him to stay out of my room from now on.”

Arthur bowed his head in agreement. “As you command, my lady.”

Upon hearing his teasing term of endearment, her whole body stiffened and a chill ran down her spine. She was sure he didn’t do it intentionally, it was just so easy to fall back into their old banter; he probably hadn’t even noticed. Either way, it still hurt, and she suddenly wanted to have him far from her sight. Her body betrayed her far too often when he was around. 

She stood up and walked over to him, pushing at his chest. “That goes for you too,” she snapped. As he stumbled backwards through the doorframe, Morgana slammed the door shut in his face.

Arthur stared at the door, completely dumbfounded. He shook his head in annoyance before heading back to his room. He didn’t understand Morgana anymore.

After she kicked Arthur out, Morgana went through her jewelry box, checking to see if everything was there. She had found all her bracelets strewn across the floor, her favorite emerald necklace on her bedpost, her hair pins on the dresser, and after picking it all up, everything was now back in its rightful place. Smiling to herself, she reached up to her neck, feeling for the most important piece of jewelry she owned. She had been wearing it every day, except… it suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t worn it since she returned to Camelot. She hadn’t wanted Arthur to see it, so she had kept it in her room.

A panic took over her, and she searched the jewelry box two more times. Finding nothing there, she dug through all of her drawers and cabinets, desperately trying to find it. She checked under the bed, behind the curtains, and everywhere else she could think. She couldn’t find it anywhere. It was gone.

\---

Morgana made her way down to Merlin’s chambers, hoping that he had seen her necklace. It was silly, but she desperately wanted it back. It was the only thing she had left, the only reminder of who she used to be, and she couldn’t lose that.

“Merlin?” she asked as she entered Gaius’s chambers. 

The boy was looking through a book furiously, trying to find a solution to his goblin problem, and he didn’t notice Morgana’s entrance.

“Merlin?” she asked again. She lightly tapped on his shoulder, causing him to jump from the bench.

“Morgana!” he yelled, clearly shocked that she was next to him. “What are you doing here? Do you need to see Gaius?”

Morgana shook her head. “I was looking for you. I heard you’ve been spring cleaning?”

Merlin’s face flushed a deep shade of red. “I’m sorry, Morgana, I’ll clean up your room—”

“It’s fine,” Morgana interrupted. “I was just wondering if you had taken anything from my room. Perhaps to clean it or something?”

Merlin looked guilty. He was sure the goblin had stolen whatever she was missing, but he couldn’t tell her that.

“I’m missing a ring. It would’ve been hung on a chain? I promise I won’t be mad if you’ve taken it, Merlin. I just want it returned.”

Merlin’s lips dropped into a frown. “I’m sorry, Morgana, but I haven’t seen it.”

Morgana sighed. She had feared that response. It meant that she had lost the ring, or Arthur had seen and taken it without telling her. Either way, she wasn’t getting it back. “Alright. Thank you, Merlin.” As she turned to leave, she added, “If you do see it…”

“I’ll be sure to be on the lookout for you, Lady Morgana.”

Morgana gave him a sad smile and left, feeling miserable yet again. She was truly growing tired of being unhappy.

\---

That night, Morgana laid awake, staring at the ceiling. Most nights when she couldn’t sleep on the isle, she would spin Arthur’s ring around her finger, pretending that he was just down the hall from her, sleeping peacefully. The thought would make her feel safe, and she would be able to sleep again. But not tonight. She kept unconsciously grabbing at her neck only to find nothing there but the cool skin of her throat.

She knew he was down the hall for real now, but it didn’t help. The comfort before had stemmed from feeling warm and loved, and all that was gone. Perhaps it was good that the ring was gone, it was only encouraging her to hold on to something that wasn’t there anymore.

She closed her eyes tightly, praying for sleep. She couldn’t shut off her brain, though, and her thoughts continued to run wild. After several agonizing moments of visualizing Arthur’s face, she gave up on sleep and threw the covers off, exposing her legs to the cold air.

Pulling on a cover, she opened her door and peered out into the hallway. It was completely dark, save for the few lit torches on the wall. It didn’t matter if she could see, she knew the castle like the back of her hand. She padded down the hall with no set destination. It was nice to be free of the constant swarm of people and prying eyes. The freedom had been what she enjoyed most about being on the isle. She could walk for hours there without anyone ever stopping to question her actions. It was nice, to be that free, but it had also been lonely, now that she thought on it. She would find herself peering around corners of the ruined castle at the center of the isle, expecting to see guards or servants milling about. Surprisingly, she halfway enjoyed the security of knowing that someone else was only a call away now. 

Suddenly craving the presence of another, she was pleased when she heard yelling coming from one of the rooms. Strangely enough, it was Arthur’s door at which she arrived. He seemed distressed, and despite her desire to stay away from him, she found herself opening the door.

Arthur was yelling out, trying to find an invisible assailant. He was on the floor, wrapped up in the covering that normally hung above his bed. He had his sword in one hand, flailing it about as he struggled to escape the heavy material covering him.

Morgana’s hands flew to her mouth, holding in her laughter. Unable to stop herself, she eventually let out a burst of giggles, finding the whole situation hilarious.

Through the material over his head, Arthur mumbled, “Who’s there?”

Hearing his muffled question only made her laugh harder.

Recognizing the sound, Arthur yelled, “Morgana! Is that you?”

She continued to laugh until she was barely able to breathe.

“MORGANA!” Arthur bellowed.

“What—” she managed between breathy bursts of laughter, “happened?”

He ignored her question, still too angry about being trapped. “Get me out of here!”

She stifled her laughter long enough to walk over to him and help. Bending at the knee, she unwound the material and gradually released Arthur from his cocoon.

As the thick covering fell away, Arthur rolled over and lay on his back, looking up at her with a furious expression. “We will never speak of this.”

Morgana grabbed his hand and helped him to his feet, then picked up his sword and handed it back to him. “Do you think you can make it through the night without the rest of your bedcovers attacking you?”

“Shut up, Morgana,” he grumbled.

“I think the curtains are looking rather ominous as well, maybe they’re plotting against you.”

He tossed his sword on the table and dragged himself to the bed, flopping face down onto the pillows. “I’m serious, ‘Gana, not another word.”

“But what if my bed coverings attack me as well? I don’t think I can go back to bed now,” she teased.

“Mor-gan-aaa.” He drew out the syllables of her name, the word coming out at an angry whine.

She chuckled to herself, pleased with having sufficiently bothered him. “Fine, I’ll go. Just try not to let your pillows smother you while I’m gone.”

Arthur punched one of his pillows in frustration before burying his face in it as Morgana left.

\---

At the council meeting the next day, Morgana sat in her normal place on Uther’s left as Arthur explained the new problem in the kingdom. She was trying her best to contain her laughter; Uther had been struck with some sort of affliction, and now was completely bald. He wore a cap to cover it, but it was still highly amusing.

Arthur addressed his father. “There have been instances of vandalism around the palace, as well as a number of thefts. I myself was a victim; unfortunately, the thief managed to elude me.”

Arthur’s statement only increased Morgana’s desire to laugh. She knew firsthand how the thief had eluded Arthur, and she still couldn’t shake the image of him being attacked by his own bedcovers.

“Double the guard,” Uther declared. “I want the perpetrator found.”

Morgana realized that this thief could be the one who stole her ring, and she crossed her arms in frustration. Hopefully the guards would find the person soon.

“The council is dismissed.” Uther announced.

One glance at Uther’s head was enough to lift Morgana’s spirits again. She looked back and caught Gwen’s eye, seeing that the maid was grinning as well. As the council left, Morgana found herself falling into step with Gwen, like she would’ve done before.

Gwen was surprised, but she wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to rekindle her friendship with Morgana. She whispered, “Did you see the king’s face? I can’t believe something actually caused all his hair to fall out!”

Morgana found herself smiling along with Gwen. “Personally, I think someone did it to him on purpose. Maybe the royal haircutter got tired of dealing with Uther’s fits all the time and just shaved it all off!”

Gwen laughed at that. “Or maybe this elusive thief stole all of his hair!”

Laughter bubbled up in Morgana’s chest. She had been doing a lot of laughing lately, and it felt good. “Speaking of the thief, apparently he was in Arthur’s room last night. You should’ve seen it, Gwen; I found Arthur hopelessly tangled in his bed canopy. Whoever this thief is, he at least has a sense of humor!”

The grin on Gwen’s face started to fade, and her laughter died on her lips. “You were in Arthur’s room last night?”

Still laughing, Morgana waved it off, “Oh, no, it wasn’t—” Abruptly, she stopped, suddenly remembering their situation. She backed away from her maid, their closeness feeling wrong.

They both stood there in silence, the real world having burst their moment of joy. Eventually Morgana cleared her throat awkwardly.

Gwen excused herself from Morgana’s presence, and both girls hurriedly walked in opposite directions. 

\---

Arthur received some troubling news from his father, and was forced to do something he didn’t agree with, yet again. He had grown to trust his father more in the past year, but there was still the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that reminded him that his father had done terrible things. The man was brutal when it came to sorcery, and that was evident in his most recent demand.

Arthur was forced to arrest Merlin, despite his better judgment. It was on the king’s orders, under the recommendation of Gaius. Arthur was shocked that Gaius was so quick to turn in his young apprentice. Gaius had always treated Merlin like a son in the past.

It was troubling, but Arthur did as his father asked. They arrested Merlin and brought him before the council.

Morgana sat and watched as Merlin was accused of being responsible for causing the afflictions that members of the court had suffered. Merlin tried to deny the accusations, but Gaius presented evidence.

“I found this in your room. It’s a book of spells and enchantments.” Gaius explained as he produced a book.

Morgana was shocked. She knew that Merlin had magic, but for Gaius to turn him in like this was unbelievable. She found herself remembering her sister’s warning about the people of Camelot. Perhaps she couldn’t trust them after all. Gaius knew of her magic as well, how long would it be before he turned her in, too?

Merlin was trying to prove his innocence, but his claims were ignored, and Morgana was barely listening. Arthur seemed intrigued, however, and tried to help his servant, but he was unsuccessful.

Gaius piped up, “I’ve been harboring a sorcerer, sire, and for that I apologize.”

Gaius’s admission stung, and Morgana squirmed in her seat. She faintly heard Uther sentence Merlin to death, and she caught the serving boy’s eye. She didn’t feel much of anything towards him anymore, and she couldn’t find it in her to feel pity now. He had stopped her before when she tried to save people with magic, and he would continue to thwart her sister’s plans in the future. Perhaps it would be better if he was gone. Besides, it wasn’t Morgana’s doing, and maybe this would show Arthur how wrong he had been about his beloved father.

As they dragged Merlin away, Morgana only felt the slightest twinge of sorrow. This was exactly why she needed to eliminate Uther, to stop this from happening ever again.

\---

Late in the night, Guinevere awoke to the sound of someone breaking into her house. She got up and grabbed a candle, but before she could search the house, a hand covered her mouth and pulled her back.

Her screams were muffled, but she struggled against the arms holding her.

“Gwen, it’s me!”

Gwen turned around to find Merlin standing there. She wasn’t happy that he had broken in, but she was glad to see him safe. “Merlin,” she breathed. “I thought they arrested you.”

He grinned sheepishly. “I broke out.” At her disapproving glare, he continued, “I’m innocent, Gwen! It’s Gaius; he’s possessed by a goblin!”

Gwen knew that Merlin would never lie to her, and she trusted his judgment. “I believe you, Merlin. But what can we do?”

“We have to get the goblin out of Gaius.”

“What can I do?” Gwen asked.

“I need you to help convince Arthur.”

\---

As morning broke, Arthur had to deliver the news that Merlin had escaped to his father. Personally, he was grateful that Merlin had broken free; he couldn’t bear to see his friend put to death.

Somehow Merlin had obtained a set of keys, and Arthur was slightly suspicious that it had been Morgana; she had done it before. When he saw her in throne room, she looked relatively uninterested, though.

He explained to his father that Merlin had escaped, constantly checking for Morgana’s reaction as he spoke, but her face remained stony.

Surprisingly, the one most bothered by the news was Gaius. He had an outburst about Merlin’s escape, blaming Arthur and calling him lazy. It was startling, and everyone fell silent until Gaius apologized for his actions.

It made Arthur highly suspicious of the older man, and he kept an eye on him even after the meeting had ended. Perhaps Merlin had been telling the truth, and Gaius truly was possessed by something evil.

In order to prove his theory, he sent for Gaius after the council, asking that the physician come to see him in his chambers.

“I believe you sent for me, sire?” Gaius asked.

Arthur pasted on a fake smile. “I wanted to thank you in person. It couldn’t have been easy for you, exposing Merlin like that.”

“My loyalty to Camelot and your father comes first,” Gaius said by means of explanation.

That was plausible, so Arthur tried another tactic. “I should also thank you for ridding me of the most incompetent, rude, and lazy servant Camelot has ever known.”

“I’m just sorry you had to deal with his ineptitude for so long.”

“Well, when we catch him, you’ll see him hang,” Arthur chirped with an air of false excitement.

Gaius smiled and replied, “I shall look forward to that.”

Arthur’s face fell. It was true. He knew for certain that this wasn’t the Gaius he had known his entire life. That man would never be so cruel as to celebrate an execution.

“Is something wrong?”

Arthur turned away. “The Gaius I know would never look forward to seeing Merlin hang, no matter what he’d done.” He drew his sword and spun towards Gaius, holding the weapon out in front of him. “Merlin was telling the truth.”

Just as Arthur moved to attack, Gaius’s eyes glowed yellow, and a pot flew across the room. The pot collided with Arthur’s head and shattered upon impact, causing Arthur to fall to the floor and lose consciousness.

Before the goblin wearing Gaius’s skin left, he cast one more spell over the sleeping prince.

\---

Per Merlin’s request, Gwen went to go visit Arthur with the hopes that she could convince him to help. Part of her wished that Merlin had gone to Morgana instead; Morgana could always get Arthur to do whatever she asked, without fail. Pushing that feeling down, she gathered her courage and knocked on Arthur’s door.

When he didn’t immediately respond, Gwen tried knocking again. “Arthur?”

A faint noise came through the door, but there were no discernible words.

“Arthur?” Gwen repeated. She heard the same noise a second time. “I’m coming in.”

She entered the room cautiously, hoping that she didn’t catch the prince in the bath or something equally as embarrassing. “Arthur?” she called.

Gwen peered around the edge of the bed, finding Arthur sitting on the floor. At least, she figured it was Arthur. He had a few new developments. “Oh!” she cried, her hand flying to her chest as she gasped.

Unable to speak, Arthur just sat there looking extremely annoyed as Gwen figured out what had happened.

\---

As Gwen left Arthur’s room, she bumped into Morgana as she walked by in the hallway. As Gwen brushed herself off, she apologized, “I’m sorry, my lady.”

Morgana noticed the room that Gwen had exited from and shook her head. “It’s fine,” she replied, her tone clipped.

“Morgana, you should know—”

Interrupting, Morgana put up her hands to signal Gwen to stop. “I really don’t want to know, Gwen.”

“But, Morgana…” she tried again.

“I need to go, Gwen, please—” She tried to move past the girl to continue on her way.

Blocking Morgana’s path, Gwen exploded, “Arthur’s a donkey!”

Morgana stopped her movements and took a step back, studying Gwen. “Come again?”

“Well, he has the ears. And… and the voice.” She looked as though she was torn between laughing at him and feeling pity for him. “He’s braying.”

“What?” Morgana spluttered. “You’re joking.”

Gwen shook her head. “It’s the truth.”

Morgana lifted an eyebrow, still questioning.

It was clear that Morgana needed further convincing. Gwen smiled slightly. “He might need some looking after, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Me?” Morgana asked, surprised that Gwen would want her to be alone with Arthur.

“I have chores, and I doubt he’d want anyone else to see him this way.” Truthfully, she was busy helping Merlin stop a goblin, but she didn’t want to tell Morgana that.

Morgana chewed on her lip, debating whether or not she should help. She probably shouldn’t get involved; it never worked out when she spent too much time alone with Arthur. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, Gwen.”

Gwen shrugged, her smile still in place. “Suit yourself.” She curtsied before leaving. “Good day, my lady.” 

Morgana watched as Gwen left, unable to move yet. She was interested in seeing Arthur’s new predicament, and it would probably be enjoyable to make fun of him at least. She blew out a breath in irritation. Her curiosity had gotten the best of her. She’d just go for a minute, and then she would leave. 

Checking to make sure that no one was watching, she ducked into Arthur’s room, quietly shutting the door behind her. The room seemed empty, and she wondered for a moment if Gwen had been lying. “Arthur?” she called.

A grunt could be heard from the other side of the bed, and Morgana walked closer to the sound. She came around the corner of the bed and nearly fell over from the sight in front of her. She burst into laughter, using the post from the bed to hold her up as she cackled.

Gwen definitely hadn’t lied. Arthur had huge furry ears like that of a donkey, and he looked extremely upset about it.

Morgana couldn’t contain herself; this was even funnier than the state she had found him in the other night.

Arthur brayed angrily in protest of Morgana’s laughter, which only made the situation worse.

Her laughter increased in volume, and she collapsed to her knees in front of Arthur. He continued to bray, and Morgana could just imagine him yelling at her like usual. Taking a few deep steadying breaths, she contained her laughter for his sake. He looked so pathetic, she felt bad for him.

“Sorry,” she murmured. 

He snorted in response.

Morgana adjusted her skirts and tucked her legs under her, leaning back against the bed. Now that she had settled, it was easier to get a good look at Arthur. She swallowed the laughter that threatened to start up again. “You know,” she stated, “I think I rather like you like this.”

Arthur glared at her.

She smirked back at him. “I mean, other than the ears. You can’t talk, so for once you won’t be able to annoy me.”

He let out a long bray, as if to contradict her statement, which only made Morgana roll her eyes.

She cocked her head at him, scanning over his body. “You don’t have a tail under there, do you?” She reached a hand out towards him, intrigued.

Arthur snapped his teeth at her hand, causing her to pull it back.

“Is that a no?” Morgana asked.

Arthur made an angry sound, or at least as angry a sound as a donkey could make, and Morgana stopped asking questions.

They sat in silence for a long while, and Morgana stared out the window to pass the time. It eventually occurred to her that this would be a good time to say her piece about everything that had happened, since Arthur would be unable to speak, and therefore unable to make her mad and ultimately ruin her speech like he normally would. She glanced over at him, finding that he was still sulking.

He caught her staring and lifted an eyebrow, wordlessly asking her what she wanted.

Gathering her nerve, she launched into the speech she had been going over in her head every night since she had returned. “I wanted to tell you,” she took a breath, “that I was sorry.”

It was obvious from his face that he didn’t understand.

“I’m sorry for so much. For leaving you…” She noticed his eyes darken when she said this, and she knew that he wasn’t confused anymore. She continued, “For not having the courage to tell you that I was alive.”

His face twisted into an unpleasant visage, as though he was reliving the memories.

She dropped her gaze, unable to look at him. “I wanted to tell you, at first. I missed you… so much, Arthur.” Biting down on her lip, she forced back the tears that pricked at her eyes. “I just… I…” she trailed off.

Arthur’s expression softened a little, but his eyes were still dark, like the sea after a storm.

Shutting her eyes tightly, she went on, her voice trembling. “It was easier to let you go, I think. You meant too much to me, and you expected too much; if you had known, I would’ve had to fight harder to come back, to be who you wanted, and I wasn’t that strong.”

She slowly looked back up at him. “That wasn’t fair, I know that. I was selfish, and scared. You deserved more than that.” 

Arthur’s arm twitched, he longed to reach out and touch her, but his brain was forcing him to hold still.

“You still deserve more,” she admitted. Brushing at her eyes, she finished, “I just wanted you to know how sorry I am, for everything.”

He opened his mouth and tried to speak, but it came out as a bray just like the rest.

Morgana gave him a watery smile and bent over to lightly kiss his cheek. As she leaned back, she stroked his furry ear and a broken sounding laugh rumbled in her chest. She stood up, moving back and leaving him on the floor. “I’ll be sure to tell someone to come and fix…” she waved her hand over him, “This.”

He was still too stunned by her speech to properly react, so he just nodded numbly.

Morgana tried to smile, but it hurt too much and she turned and left before she completely broke down.

\---

Over the next few days, everything in Camelot went back to normal. Merlin and Gwen successfully captured the goblin, and saved Gaius as well. Merlin was cleared of all charges, and the goblin was locked away somewhere safe. All the enchantments were broken, and all the afflictions healed.

The stolen items were found in Gaius’s chambers and returned to the proper owners. Merlin brought the chest of gold back to Arthur’s room for him and set it on the table.

Arthur opened the box, doubling checking that everything was there.

“Worried that I stole something, sire?” Merlin joked.

Arthur shook his head, not bothering with a witty retort.

Merlin watched Arthur with concern in his eyes, the prince had been oddly quiet ever since they had removed the enchantment on him and returned him to normal. “Are you alright?”

Arthur continued to sift through the coins. “Fine,” he replied disinterestedly.

Merlin rolled his eyes. It was glaringly obvious that Arthur was lying, but he wasn’t going to push it.

As Arthur picked up a handful of coins, he noticed something out of place in the box. There was a necklace of some sort at the bottom, and he reached for it. He pulled out a white gold chain, and with it, a silver ring that hung on it. It dangled from one of his fingers, and he stared at it, recognition washing over him.

Merlin noticed Arthur’s strange behavior and walked over to inspect the ring as well. “Oh, good, you found it.”

Merlin’s words broke Arthur’s fixation with the ring and he looked up at his manservant.

Merlin explained, “Morgana was looking for it.” Sensing Arthur’s interest in the subject, Merlin knowingly added, “She seemed rather upset about losing it.”

Arthur took the new information in and nodded his head. “I should return it, then.”

“You should,” Merlin agreed.

\---

Morgana was busying herself by reorganizing her closet for the fifth time when a knock came at her door. She dropped the dress she was holding and spun around to face the door, worried about who was on the other side.

The knocking came again, this time accompanied by a voice. “Morgana, I know you’re in there.”

She sighed heavily. “I’m busy, Arthur.”

“Morgana.” He uttered her name like a warning. He was going to come in whether she wanted it or not.

Reluctantly, Morgana walked over to the door and opened it a fraction, just enough to see his face. “What do you want, Arthur?”

“I have something of yours,” he answered.

Taking a step back, she opened the door enough to let him inside the room.

Once Arthur was inside, he turned to Morgana and held out his closed fist. Before she could comment, he relaxed his fingers and let the ring slide out of his hand. He kept the end of the chain in his palm to keep it from falling.

Morgana let out a small gasp.

“I believe you were looking for this,” Arthur remarked.

She nodded. “Where did you find it?”

“The goblin had stolen it. He must’ve liked the gold chain.”

Morgana found herself nodding again, unable to do much more. Her voice kept getting caught in her throat, and she didn’t trust herself to speak.

Arthur shook his head, chuckling quietly to himself. “You kept it.”

Morgana bit her bottom lip, nodding a third time.

He held his arm out to her, offering back the ring.

Morgana couldn’t move her arm to take it back. “It was yours,” she mumbled. “You can have it back.”

He knew her well enough to know when she was lying. She wanted the ring, he could tell. He considered keeping it, but the thought of giving it to anyone else seemed wrong. Guinevere was wonderful, and he cared for her, but this ring, it would always belong to Morgana. With his free hand, he reached down and gently grabbed Morgana’s wrist. He pulled up her hand and turned it over so her palm was open.

Morgana watched him curiously as he placed the ring in her hand. He carefully closed her fingers over the trinket before he let go.

“It looks better on you.” He smiled at her before turning to open the door. He glanced back one more time before slipping out of the room.

Morgana stood there for several minutes, too stunned to properly function. She didn’t want to get her hopes up, but this seemed like a step in the right direction. Maybe things could get back to normal, after all.


	4. Gwaine

After a long hunt, Arthur and Merlin had loaded up their horses with their kills and were making their way back to Camelot. Along the way, Arthur noticed a small tavern and stopped, intrigued.

“You know what you need after hard day’s hunt?” Arthur asked.

“Sleep.” Merlin replied, feeling exhausted.

Ignoring his servant, Arthur went on, “A nice, cold tankard of mead.”

“Mead,” Merlin grumbled. Going to a tavern was a horrible idea, but there was no stopping Arthur.

They entered the tavern and sat down at an available table. The bar matron came over so they could order their drinks, and she kept eyeing up Merlin, much to Arthur’s chagrin. Merlin was starting to enjoy the tavern a bit more, though.

As they enjoyed their drinks, Arthur noticed a large, menacing man enter the tavern. The man’s presence quieted everyone, and clearly there was history there. The man came up to the bar matron and demanded money from her. The woman produced some, but the man didn’t seem pleased by the amount. He began to get angry and grabbed the bar matron by her shirt, and Arthur could sit by and watch no longer. The man was a blatant thug.

Arthur rose to his feet and commanded, “Take your hands off her.”

The thug turned towards Arthur with a smug grin on his face. He swung out his knife in an attacking move, but Arthur ducked under his arm and kicked him to the side.

As the disgruntled man stumbled to his feet, he grumbled, “I’m going to make you pay for that.”

Feeling slightly giddy from the alcohol, Merlin blurted, “I’d like to see you try.”

The giant thug whistled in response, causing a swarm of men to pour into the bar.

Arthur glared in Merlin’s direction. “You just had to open your big mouth, didn’t you, Merlin?”

As the hoard of angry men approached, one of the patrons in the bar stood up from his seat and walked over to Arthur. He was just as tall as Arthur, with a full head of long, brown hair that swayed when he walked. “You two have gotten yourselves into a bit of a pickle.”

“You should get out of here while you still have the chance,” Arthur warned. He didn’t want anyone to get hurt on his behalf.

The man with the luscious hair shrugged and took a sip of his drink. “You’re probably right.” He set his drink down and looked at the biggest thug. With a smile on his face, he swung back and delivered a hard punch right to the thug’s face, most likely breaking his nose.

With that, a huge brawl broke out, and everyone in the bar joined in the fight. Even Merlin did his part, getting in several good licks. He used the jugs and plates and other hard objects lying around to knock some of the men on the head.

Arthur and this mystery helper were doing the bulk of the work, both of them effectively knocking out the majority of the thugs and shoving them out of the bar.

Arthur found himself pinned down by the biggest thug at one point, and Merlin had to dodge several flying benches, but both of them kept going. Merlin ducked under the bar and started throwing plates.

The mystery man came up to Merlin in the middle of a fight with one of the larger brutes. “Pass me the jug?” he asked.

Merlin handed over the jug and watched at the man took a long swig before smashing it over the brute’s head.

Turning to Merlin, he inquired, “So what do they call you, then?”

“Merlin.”

The mystery man smiled. “Gwaine; nice to meet you.” He shook Merlin’s hand before spinning around to punch another man, his hair swinging around his face as he went.

Arthur was still busy fighting the original problem starter, and he was struggling. As Arthur stumbled backwards from a shove, the thug pulled out a knife, prepared to end the fight for good.

Gwaine noticed the weapon before Arthur did, and he launched himself in front of the prince, tackling the big thug as he went. He successfully managed to knock out his assailant, but as he stood up, he noticed that he hadn’t come out unscathed.

Arthur and Merlin watched as their new friend collapsed to the ground, a knife protruding from his upper thigh. They both ran over to him, and Merlin tied a tourniquet above the wound. He knew from experience that thigh wounds could be fatal if the person lost too much blood. 

Arthur picked up his savior and with Merlin’s help, they dragged him out of the bar and up onto Arthur’s horse. They needed to get him to Gaius immediately.

Before Arthur left, he imparted to the people that should they ever need help again, to only send word to Camelot.

The people were shocked to hear that Arthur was in fact, the prince, and they all cheered as he left.

\---

Word of Arthur’s mysterious savior spread quickly through Camelot, and Morgana was intrigued. One of the serving girls in the kitchen had told her, and the girl kept blushing through it all, saying that the man was supposedly just as handsome as the prince.

Morgana rolled her eyes, accustomed to the female population swooning over Arthur. She was interested in meeting this dashing newcomer, however. She decided she would pay him a visit. It was the polite thing to do, after all, to wish him a speedy recovery.

She arrived at Gaius’s chambers to find the physician on his way out. “Gaius,” she breathed. “I just wanted to come and see the man responsible for saving Arthur’s life.”

Gaius fumbled around with the remedies he was carrying in his arms. “Ah, yes, Gwaine. He’s resting in Merlin’s room.” He readjusted the burden in his arms and gave Morgana a small smile. “You’ll have to excuse me, my lady; I have patients that need tending.”

Morgana nodded. “Of course, Gaius. I’ll just stay and look over this patient for you, if you don’t mind.”

Gaius smiled again and hurried out of the door, leaving Morgana alone.

She quietly crept over to Merlin’s room and opened the door, revealing Gwaine sleeping peacefully in Merlin’s bed. The maid hadn’t lied, the man was quite beautiful. His hair had fallen over his face in his sleep, and Morgana couldn’t help herself, she walked over and brushed it gently out of his eyes. There was something fascinating about watching men sleep; she so enjoyed seeing them vulnerable and relaxed. Unwillingly, her mind kept flashing back to thoughts of Arthur. She thought of the nights that she had come to him after a nightmare, and remembered what it was like waking up in his arms and watching his face in the moonlight. The memories physically caused pain in her chest, and she forced herself to ignore it.

Gwaine’s leg had fallen out of the sheets as he moved in his sleep, and it was a welcome distraction. She saw his wound and noticed that the bandages needed changing. She wasn’t a physician, but she had done her fair share of patching up the knights after a battle, and she knew what to do. Grabbing the fresh bandages from the table by the bed, she started to work.

It was surprising that Gwaine never awoke during the whole process, but Morgana didn’t mind. She preferred to sit in silence; undoubtedly if he woke she would have to start praising him for saving Arthur, and that was a conversation she didn’t want to have at the moment. After finishing, she covered his leg with the blanket and smoothed the covers out for him. His eyes flickered under his lids and she stepped back, afraid he’d wake up, but he just mumbled to himself and rolled over again.

Feeling satisfied that she had helped someone; she left him to his sleep. She was sure she’d see him again.

\---

Camelot was quite busy over the next few days. Knights from across the realm were coming to stay at the castle for the melee. Arthur was excited for the fight, as could be expected. Morgana found the whole thing to be rather barbaric and wasn’t that thrilled. She didn’t enjoy the flood of obnoxious knights that would be struggling to impress her with their fighting prowess. It was the same every year, she was the prize to be won in the eyes of the knights, and they all fought to be the lucky one to escort her to the feast.

Thankfully, for her sake, Arthur usually won and saved her from an evening of mindless chatter with some egotistical knight. However, this year, she wasn’t looking forward to being rescued. She secretly hoped that someone laid Arthur out on his behind so that she wouldn’t be stuck with him all night. After her little speech the other week, she was too afraid to look him in the eye for very long.

Therefore, she did her best to play the role of a vapid lady of the court and doted on all the knights whenever she saw them.

After greeting several visiting knights in the main hall, Morgana noticed Arthur staring at her uncomfortably from across the room. He had been acting strangely lately, and she was tired of it. Ever since he had returned the necklace, she had been wearing his ring again, under her dresses of course. The chain stood out against her collarbone though, and she knew that Arthur saw it. She tried to tell herself that she only wore it to ensure that she didn’t lose it again, but it was a pathetic excuse.

As the knights exited the hall, Morgana noticed a maid watching the men with rapt attention. Turning to the girl, she quipped, “You know, for once, I think I’m going to enjoy having a group of men fighting for my affections. I might even grant a kiss to the winner.”

The maid giggled furiously, blushing and mumbling something about how lucky Lady Morgana was, but Morgana ignored it. She caught Arthur’s heated gaze from across the room; she had felt it burning into her skin and knew that he had heard her. She smirked at him before turning and leaving in a swirl of skirts. It was a bit foolish, but she wanted to make Arthur jealous. It was a sign that he hadn’t completely gotten over her, and she clung onto that, no matter how desperate it made her look.

\---

Even though Morgana and Gwen weren’t on speaking terms for the most part, Gwen technically was still Morgana’s maid, and she offered to take Morgana down to the market to find material for a new dress. Morgana agreed, if only because she wanted something stunning to wear on the day of the melee. It was nice to feel wanted, and she wasn’t letting that go just yet. 

She glanced over at Gwen as she walked through the market, wishing she could talk to her, but it was too tense between them. They continued in silence, looking at the different fabrics and only commenting when they really liked something they found.

After purchasing their wares, they started to make their way back to the castle. As they rounded a corner, Morgana caught sight of the mysterious Gwaine moving towards them. He was even more handsome when he was awake, and Morgana smiled to herself in appreciation.

Gwaine noticed the girls walking towards him as well, and found himself staring back at Morgana. He slowed his pace and moved in front of the women to stop them.

Morgana smirked, but Gwen was less comfortable. She took the bundle of fabrics and excused herself before the man had a chance to engage her.

Gwaine didn’t seem to mind that Gwen snuck away; he was too busy studying Morgana. “Do I know you?” he asked. 

Morgana shook her head, playing coy. There was no need to reveal that she had visited him. “No, but I know you. You must be Gwaine, the man who saved Arthur’s life. Everyone is talking about you.” 

Gwaine bowed in a braggadocios display. “I am indeed,” he replied, a grin on his lips. 

Morgana shook her head and tried to move past him. 

Gwaine’s hand shot out and lightly grabbed Morgana’s wrist, stalling her escape. “Now, you know who I am, shouldn’t you pay me the same courtesy?” 

Sighing, she was reluctant, but he refused to release his hold on her hand. “I’m the Lady Morgana.”

“Ah, here I thought you were a princess.”

Morgana stifled a laugh, the pressure throbbing in her chest. “For that, I’d have to be married to the prince, and trust me, I’m not marrying Arthur.”

From her tone, he could tell there was more to the story, but he didn’t ask. “Well, you’re a princess in my book.”

Morgana rolled her eyes. “Do you flirt this aggressively with every girl you meet?”

“Only the ones that seem worth it,” he replied, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

She chuckled to herself. “You’re a charming man, but sadly, I must take my leave.”

He spun her around by her hand, twirling her closer to him. “Meet me later, then,” he propositioned.

“I can’t.” She tried to pull her hand back, but he was persistent. “Really,” she tried, “I shouldn’t.”

He flashed her a winning smile. “Please, my lady. I only wish to get to know you better.”

Morgana mulled it over for a moment. He seemed relatively sincere, and it wasn’t as though she couldn’t handle herself if anything happened. “I’ll think about it,” she compromised.

Gwaine seemed to accept her answer and he placed a kiss on the back of her hand before letting her go.

Guinevere had watched the whole scene from behind a cart and was worried for Morgana. Men like Gwaine could end up getting her into trouble, and the last thing Gwen wanted was for Morgana to get hurt. The poor girl had been through enough already.

Gwen followed Morgana to her chambers, hoping to convince her to stay away from Gwaine.

Morgana noticed the tail, but assumed that Gwen was just delivering the fabrics. When they reached her chambers, she ordered Gwen to put them on the table.

Gwen did as she was asked, but she didn’t leave after she had finished. “Morgana, I know this may not be my place, but I don’t think you should spend too much time with Gwaine. I’ve seen men like him; I don’t think you can trust him.”

Morgana scoffed. She didn’t want advice from Guinevere on men. “I can handle myself, Gwen.”

“Morgana, please. I know that we’re not exactly friends anymore, but I worry about you.”

Morgana tried her best not to yell. She wanted to give in and be petty for once, to scream at Gwen to mind her own business, but she held back. “You don’t need to worry. I’ve survived worse than Gwaine.”

“Morgana, please,” Gwen begged.

Biting down on her cheek, she commanded, “You can go.”

Gwen refused to give in yet. “I just don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Hurt?” Morgana sneered, losing control of her temper. “I don’t think I need to worry about strangers hurting me, I’ve gotten enough from the people I used to consider friends.”

Gwen winced. “I never meant to hurt you. You mean more to me than anyone, Morgana, you know that.”

“Oh, do I?”

“I didn’t plan this. You were gone, and it just…” Gwen sighed, “It just happened.” If she was honest, she wasn’t sure how she and Arthur had gotten so close. He had been so broken for so long, and she had tried so hard to fix him. He would smile around her, and she liked being needed. One day it had become something else, and neither of them had expected it.

The pettiness rose up inside her again, and before she could stop herself, Morgana blurted, “Do you love him?”

The question shocked both of them into silence for a moment, the words hanging heavy in the air. Gwen blew out a slow breath and admitted, “I don’t know. I could, perhaps.” She met Morgana’s eye and continued, “But he won’t ever love me. Not the way he did you.”

Morgana’s jaw fell open slightly; she was too stunned to reply.

Gwen noticed Morgana’s reaction and added, “I’m not a fool, Morgana. I know he cares for me, but it won’t ever be the same.”

Morgana turned her head; the look in Gwen’s eyes was making her feel guilty. She wanted to apologize, but it sounded wrong every time she heard it in her head, so she said nothing.

“Just, be careful,” Gwen murmured.

Morgana nodded, the words sounding far away. She was still stuck between feeling a sick sense of pride and the guilt that went with it.

As Gwen left, Morgana sunk down onto the edge of her bed. She sat there staring mindlessly at the brightly colored fabrics, letting her mind wander.

\---

Morgana had sat in her room for hours, processing her conversation with Gwen. She could no longer tell which way was up, her emotions were all over the place. She decided that she needed to get outside of her head, and she sought out Gwaine to take him up on his offer. 

She found Gwaine as he wandered the halls and stopped him. Ignoring entirely Gwen’s warning, she stated, “So I thought about it.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “And?”

“And I’ll go with you. I’m in need of some fun.” She was feeling adventurous; she was up for anything that could make her forget her life for a night.

Gwaine grinned widely, clearly pleased with her decision. He took her by the hand. “Come with me, then, princess.”

\---

Gwaine ended up taking Morgana to the local tavern. At first, Morgana was scandalized, afraid that someone would recognize her. She had a reputation to uphold, and she couldn’t be seen slumming with the commoners at a tavern. As she entered the establishment, she pulled her cloak tight around her shoulders and tried to hide her face. “Gwaine,” she complained, “I can’t stay here.”

He laughed heartily and dragged her over to the bar to order some drinks. “You said you wanted fun. I think you need to loosen up some, princess.” He passed her a flagon of mead and raised an eyebrow challengingly.

Morgana rolled her eyes and grabbed the drink, taking a long swig. She set it down and wiped the foam from her lips, feeling slightly braver. “Fine. But I’m only staying for a few drinks.”

Gwaine smirked and dragged her to a table. He knew perfectly well that once she got into it, she would forget all about her promise to leave.

After several more drinks, Gwaine was proven right. Morgana was actually enjoying herself, and she had shrugged off her cloak and left it on her chair. Bringing her glass up to her lips, she paused before drinking, cocking her head at Gwaine. “So, what’s your story?”

He shrugged. “Nothing special. I’m sure I have a few more tales to tell than you, but it’s nothing worth sharing.”

Morgana shoved at his shoulder, the alcohol making her bold. “Come on. You have to tell me something. What about your family?”

“Don’t have any,” he replied.

His answer was slightly sobering, and Morgana set down her drink. “Well, that’s something we have in common, then.”

He studied her silently.

Morgana continued on, “My father was killed in battle. Some mission for the king that went wrong, apparently.” From her tone, it was clear that she was still bitter. “And my mother vanished when I was a baby. I’ve lived with Uther most of my life.”

Gwaine shook his head. Who knew he’d find so much in common with this girl? “My father was a knight, too. He died when I was young. Our king refused to help, and my mother and I were left with nothing.”

Morgana’s eyes widened. She wasn’t thinking clearly enough to be properly empathetic, and she focused on one thing. “You’re a noble?” she asked. Suddenly her dalliance with him wasn’t as forbidden as she had previously thought.

He nodded slowly.

She laughed, taking a long sip of her drink.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“I was just thinking that, in another life, I would’ve been exactly like you. Denying my nobility, living life out on the road, never bothering with getting tied down. It just sounds so… freeing.” She sighed wistfully.

“You still could, princess,” he pointed out.

Morgana shook her head from behind her glass. She swallowed the drink and explained, “I already tried that. It did not end well.” She could never stay away, not as long as Arthur was here, and she knew it. “I have too many roots holding me down.”

“You ran away from all this?” Gwaine asked teasingly.

She pulled an annoyed face and pushed him again. “I’m not as spoiled as you think.”

“Whatever you say, princess.”

They went back to their drinks and continued to exchange stories well into the evening. Morgana managed to avoid all questions involving Arthur, and with the help of the alcohol, she felt great. They continued drinking until they both were extremely drunk, and they were getting quite rowdy.

People outside the tavern could hear the raucous activity inside, and it was drawing attention. One person in particular paid notice, and saw something rather upsetting. Gwen was passing by on her way home, and she saw Morgana from the window. Knowing she couldn’t stop Morgana’s antics on her own, she went to get help.

\---

Gwen had tried Merlin’s chambers first, but found them empty. She was reluctant to try her other option, but she didn’t have a choice. She knocked on Arthur’s door, hoping by some chance that Merlin was in there cleaning by himself.

As the tall blonde prince opened the door, Gwen felt her heart sink. This was not going to go well. “Arthur,” she chirped, trying for a false air of happiness. “Is Merlin here? I need his help.”

As Arthur opened the door wider, Merlin poked his head out and grinned at her. “What is it?”

Gwen smiled nervously and looked back and forth between the two men. “I need you to come with me.”

Arthur could sense that something was wrong and he asked, “What’s going on, Guinevere?”

“Nothing, Arthur, I just need Merlin—”

“Guinevere,” he cut her off. She had never been a good liar. “I’m not letting you go until you tell me what this is about.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, she accepted that Arthur would find out sooner or later and begrudgingly admitted, “It’s Morgana.”

\---

When Arthur arrived at the tavern, he was livid. He couldn’t believe that Gwaine had convinced Morgana to come to a place like this. Who knows what might’ve happened to her; anyone could try to take advantage of her while she was inebriated and unprotected. The thought made him clench his fists tighter, his knuckles cracking from the force.

Gwen had gone home, opting to stay out of the way, but Merlin stayed, knowing that Arthur being alone with Morgana in this state wasn’t the smartest plan.

Arthur burst into the tavern and made a beeline for Morgana. She was surrounded by a crowd of men and was laughing hysterically at something one of them had said. “Morgana,” he thundered, his rage clouding his judgment. “What are you doing?”

Morgana excused herself to the men and hopped off her stool, coming over to Arthur. “What does it look like?” She breezed past him and tried to pick up her drink from the table.

Arthur grabbed her arm before she could reach the glass and started to tug her towards the door. “We are leaving. Right now.”

As expected, Morgana threw a fit. She didn’t like being ordered around when she was sober, and it was even worse when she was drunk. She shoved him off, glaring venomously at him. “Am I not allowed to have fun now, is that it?”

“Morgana,” Arthur warned.

She couldn’t control her tongue, and she spat, “You may not want me anymore, but that doesn’t mean that other men don’t find me appealing. Some of them actually enjoy my company.” She motioned towards where Gwaine had been sitting at the bar. He was now on the floor, however, but Morgana didn’t notice.

From his spot on the floor, Gwaine looked over at Arthur and piped up, “You turned her down? Oh, big mistake, mate.”

Arthur glared at Gwaine, and if the man hadn’t already been on the ground, Arthur probably would’ve put him there. Tired of dealing with the whole situation, Arthur walked over to Morgana and unceremoniously scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder. He nodded to Merlin, who went to get Gwaine, and then left the tavern, ignoring the screeching noises emitting from the woman on his shoulder.

Morgana beat him with her little fists the entire way back to the castle, but Arthur ignored it. He probably would have bruises littering his back tomorrow, but it didn’t matter. He carried her all the way up the servant’s staircase, trying to hide her from view of prying eyes, and finally reached her room.

He dumped her on her bed, and Morgana frowned up at him like a petulant child. He tugged off her boots and untied her cloak for her, setting the items beside her bed.

Morgana had stopped crying out, but she was still pouting. “You didn’t have to drag me out of there like that. You’re such a brute sometimes.”

“You’re drunk, Morgana. I couldn’t leave you there.” He reached under her knees and picked her up again as he folded back the bedcovers.

“It’s not your job to save me, Arthur,” she grumbled from where she was pressed against his chest. “Why don’t you go around rescuing Gwen all the time?”

Arthur gently set her back down and pulled the covers over her. “Guinevere just doesn’t have the same knack for getting into trouble as you do.”

Morgana rolled her eyes as well as she could, but her eyelids were getting heavy. “I was tired of being miserable,” she mumbled.

His movements stilled. “You’re miserable?” he questioned, but he didn’t get an answer.

The alcohol had finally caught up to her, and Morgana passed out, her head lolling to the side as she slept.

Arthur moved her head so it was resting properly on the pillow. He caught the glint of the chain around her neck and shook his head, smiling despite himself. He didn’t know what to feel around Morgana anymore. One minute he was furious, but then he was smiling. She had this way of always making him forget all about his problems, even if the problem happened to be her. 

He sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, watching her. It was hard, having her back. He knew that he had struggled with it, but until now, he hadn’t realized how hard it must’ve been for Morgana too. There were dark circles under her eyes again, and he knew she hadn’t been sleeping. She tried to cover it up with black rims of kohl and other powders, but he could see it now in the moonlight. He didn’t want her to be miserable, she didn’t deserve that. But if being with Gwaine was what made her happy, he wasn’t sure he could stomach it. He didn’t want any man touching her, and he knew that it was wrong of him, but he felt that way all the same.

Morgana rolled to the side, mumbling to herself. In her sleep, she muttered, “Arthur.” 

He waited to see if she was awake, but she seemed firmly imbedded in a dream. 

His name was all she said, and she smacked her lips cutely before sinking back into her slumber.

There was a faint pain that flared up in Arthur’s chest as he watched her, and he knew that he couldn’t stay there any longer. As he stood up to leave, he leaned over and brushed his lips across her forehead in a feather light kiss. “Goodnight, Morgana.”

\---

The next day, Morgana didn’t wake until noon, and when she did, she had a splitting headache. Thankfully she avoided the punishment given to Gwaine; he was forced to clean all the boots worn by the army. Arthur wouldn’t dare try to make her do something like that. Besides, her headache was punishment enough.

When Morgana woke, she found a glass of water and a plate with bread and fruit waiting for her. She could only assume that it was Gwen’s doing, and the gesture was appreciated. She kept the curtains drawn and got up to bathe and get dressed. There was nothing too pressing for her to attend to, so she slipped on one of her simpler dresses and didn’t bother with painting her face. She sat and ate the bread, hoping desperately for the day to be over quickly.

\---

While Morgana was busy recovering from her night of debauchery, elsewhere in Camelot, things were brewing. Merlin had discovered something sinister about two of the knights in the melee, and he believed that they were plotting to kill Arthur. During his attempt to get proof, however, he had been caught. Thankfully, Gwaine came to the rescue once again. He fought off the so-called knights and saved Merlin, but unfortunately, his acts weren’t viewed as heroic by the guards.

Gwaine was dragged to the throne room to be brought before the king. After the knights told their incorrect versions of the story, Uther believed that Gwaine was guilty of attacking the men without just cause, and he was furious.

Arthur struggled through the sentencing, torn between his allegiance to his father and his faith in his new friend. However, he could no longer hold his tongue when Uther began to sentence Gwaine to death. Arthur stepped in, beseeching his father to be lenient. Gwaine had saved his life, and he was a noble man at heart, Arthur knew it. He convinced Uther to reduce the sentence, and the king ruled that Gwaine would be banished from Camelot. Gwaine had until dawn to leave, and was warned that if he returned, he would be put to death.

\---

The maids were shameful gossips, it seemed, because Morgana quickly heard of Gwaine’s banishment. She didn’t know the details, but she knew that he would be leaving before the next morning.

Infuriated, Morgana went to Arthur’s chambers, bursting in without preamble. “You’re banishing him?” Morgana snapped.

Arthur sighed, he had expected this. Morgana never could stop herself from interfering with situations like this. He set down the sword belt he had been adjusting and looked over at Morgana. “It wasn’t my decision.”

“Is this because of the other night?” she pressed, her voice bordering on shrill.

Arthur narrowed his eyes at her. “You know, not everything has to do with you, Morgana.”

She huffed and perched on the edge of his bed. “Well, you have to stop it.”

He had forgotten how taxing it could be to know Morgana at times. “There’s nothing I can do, my father has made up his mind.”

“That hasn’t stopped you before,” Morgana pointed out, the hint of a smile on her lips.

Arthur couldn’t look at her, that smile of hers would make him do things he’d regret. He shook his head, his hair swinging across his eyes as he moved. “This is different. He gets to live Morgana, be thankful for that.”

The corners of her lips dropped back down, the urge to smile now gone. She got off the bed and stormed out of Arthur’s chambers, knowing that it was useless to stay. As she left, she shot an angry glance over her shoulder and made sure to slam the door behind her.

Arthur threw his sword belt roughly across the room after she left. She knew just how to make him feel like the lowest person alive.

\---

After leaving Arthur’s chambers, Morgana immediately sought out Gwaine. She headed towards the room where Gwaine was staying, hoping she’d get there before he left.

As she entered the corridor leading to the room, she saw him heading in her direction, his bag slung over his shoulder.

He saw Morgana approaching and smiled. “Hello, princess.”

His warm expression made her feel terrible. He didn’t deserve this, she was sure he had done nothing wrong. Uther was just being harsh, as usual. “You shouldn’t have to go.”

He shrugged and reached out to lightly pat her shoulder. “It’s alright.”

“I tried to get Arthur to fix it, but he—”

Gwaine stopped her. “He already tried to speak up for me. He’s the reason I get to leave with my life.”

Morgana softened. She supposed she would have to apologize to Arthur later. “He’s a better man than his father. At least, most of the time.”

Gwaine caught the far off wistful look in her eye and smirked. “You really care for him, don’t you?”

Morgana scoffed, feigning disbelief. She shook her head furiously, trying to deny it.

It was a sad attempt, and Gwaine chuckled at her. “He cares for you as well, you know.”

Waving it off, she countered, “No, that was a long time ago.” She bit the inside of her cheek to distract herself from the pain that surged up inside her.

Knowingly, Gwaine continued, “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” With a cheeky grin, he added, “Plus, he nearly took my head off after our little night together. Trust me, he wants you for himself, princess.”

Morgana pursed her lips and forced a puff of air through her nose, finding his claims ridiculous. “You’re mistaken. He told me himself, he doesn’t love me, not anymore.”

His smile diminished, and he cupped her cheek with his hand. “Then he is a liar as well as a fool.”

A small heartbreaking laugh broke free of Morgana’s lips. She covered the hand on her cheek with her own, squeezing his fingers. “I’m going to miss you, Gwaine.”

As she released her grip on him, he let his hand drop from her cheek. He readjusted his bag on his shoulder, nodding in a leaving gesture. As he moved past her, he murmured, “I just hope Arthur lives long enough to fix his mistakes.”

Morgana caught the faint words and watched Gwaine leave, an uneasy feeling in her stomach.

\---

The following morning marked the start of the melee, and Morgana was terrified for what might happen. Gwaine’s parting words had scared her, but she hadn’t had the chance to talk to Arthur or Merlin about it before the fight. She was just going to have to watch and hope for the best. If things got too bad, she could resort to magic, but she hoped it didn’t come to that. She would do it if she had to, though; Arthur was too important.

Once the fighting started, Gwen came and sat with Morgana, even though she was sitting up in the section reserved for nobles. Gwen could tell that Morgana needed someone and refused to let their feud over Arthur ruin things permanently between them. Morgana didn’t say anything, just allowed Gwen to sit there with her. She did need the support, and it’s not like she had never broken the rules for Gwen before.

They sat and watched the melee, both quietly cheering for Arthur. He was doing quite well, and Morgana was starting to wonder if there had ever been a reason to worry. Arthur had knocked most of his opponents off their horses, and now the fight had been moved to ground level.

After an impressive display of fighting by all the knights, it was down to Arthur and two other men. The other knights were viciously attacking Arthur, and the prince was losing the upper hand. The two men both targeted Arthur, and it was difficult to fight them both at once. Arthur put on a good show, but he was close to failing.

Morgana held her breath as she watched; there was something about the knights that bothered her. Their auras were cloudy, and it made her head ache to look at them for too long. There was some kind of magic at work, and Morgana’s worries immediately resurfaced.

As Arthur fought off the two attackers, another knight further down the field struggled to his feet. He wandered over to the fight and joined in, combating one of the assailants to give Arthur some reprieve. The new knight was extremely skilled, and managed to steal away his opponent’s sword. Using the stolen sword, he thrust out his arm and stabbed the opposing knight in the stomach.

The whole crowd gasped and Morgana unconsciously reached out and grabbed Gwen’s hand. The swords were supposed to be blunt, and a death on the field was startling.

Arthur continued to fight his adversary, but while fending off the attacks, he lost his footing and was thrown to the ground. The knight he had been fighting held his sword up in the air over Arthur’s chest, poised to bring it down in a killing strike. Before he could complete the blow, however, the helpful knight from before intervened and once again, used the sword to kill one of men trying to harm Arthur.

As Arthur got back to his feet, he studied his savior carefully. “They’ll expect us to fight to the end, now,” he commented.

The other knight was silent in return.

Arthur reached up and pulled off his helmet, resulting in cheers from the stadium. In a noble move, he conceded the fight. “You fought bravely, the field is yours.” He stabbed his sword into the dirt to signal his forfeit.

Morgana and Gwen both breathed a sigh of relief, happy that the fighting was at an end.

The unknown knight removed his helmet as well, revealing his face. The sight caused Arthur to chuckle.

“I should’ve known,” Arthur mused. Yet again, Gwaine had come to his aide and saved his life.

As Uther recognized Gwaine’s face, he rose from his seat and yelled, “Guards! Seize him!”

Morgana jumped up from her chair as well, calling out, “No!”

Uther glanced over at her with disappointment in his eyes. He made no moves to stop the guards, and let them drag Gwaine away.

Arthur heard Morgana’s cry and watched her struggle to stay still as Gwaine was taken away. He caught her gaze and nodded at her, the simple motion conveying volumes. It went without saying that he would do something to stop this, and he knew that Morgana understood. She smiled back at him, the gratitude shining in her eyes.

\---

Arthur found his father after the fight and told him that he believed that Gwaine was innocent. He never would have come back and fought without a good reason, and Arthur believed that the man had been trying to protect him. Arthur demanded that they examine the bodies of the knights, hoping that they would find something incriminating.

On Arthur’s orders, Gaius inspected the bodies of the knights that Gwaine had killed, and found something suspicious. Uther was still out for Gwaine’s head, but Gaius revealed that yet again Gwaine had saved the prince’s life, just like Arthur had thought. The knights were actually two thugs in disguise through the use of magic. 

The mention of sorcery was enough to make Uther accept that the men were evil, and he lost his drive to have Gwaine put to death. He removed the decree and let Gwaine live, but he kept the banishment in place.

Arthur found Merlin and Gwaine in the castle and told them the news.

Merlin was thrilled, but Arthur had more to share that wasn’t as pleasing. “The king is a stubborn man. He will not rescind his previous judgment. You must leave Camelot.”

Gwaine nodded, accepting the information.

Arthur frowned, wishing there was another way. “I’m sorry, Gwaine. My father is wrong. If it were up to me…”

“I know,” Gwaine cut in, “You don’t need to explain yourself.”

“You have until sunset.”

\---

This time, when Morgana heard the news, she knew better than to blame Arthur. He hadn’t spoken to her, but she knew that he had done all he could, she could sense it somehow. It made her happy to know that he was still willing to fight for what was right, even if his father disagreed; it gave her hope.

As the sun started to sink lower in the sky, she went down to the square to wish Gwaine off as he left the city.

She stopped him when they were nearly at the gates and said her goodbyes. “I hope I’ll see you again, someday. You made Camelot much more bearable.” Her face split into a shaky grin.

He smiled back. “I hope so, too, princess.” As they talked, he felt like someone was watching them, and his eyes flicked up over Morgana’s shoulder to check. His gaze fell on the turrets, and he put the pieces together. He had already waved goodbye to Arthur and Merlin and knew that they were up there. Arthur was watching them intently, and Gwaine was struck with an idea.

Morgana was oblivious to what had caught Gwaine’s attention, and she was surprised when Gwaine started leaning in towards her.

Hovering over her lips, he whispered, “You’ll thank me for this later.” Closing the gap, Gwaine slanted his mouth over hers in a swift kiss. It didn’t last more than a few seconds, but that would be more than enough.

Up on the turrets, Arthur looked down over the square, his features darkening with anger as he watched Gwaine kiss Morgana.

Merlin was standing to Arthur’s right, and he saw the whole scene as well. Arthur seemed like he was about to explode, and Merlin taunted, “You’re not jealous, are you?”

Arthur scoffed, some of his intensity fading. “Of course not.” He watched as Morgana pushed at Gwaine’s chest and giggled over something. Still fuming, he ranted, “I mean, Gwaine, he’s…” He struggled to find the words. “He’s not good enough for her!”

Merlin nodded, a smirk on his lips. “Right. And that’s the only reason it bothers you.”

Arthur reached over and shoved Merlin’s arm. “Shut up, Merlin.”


	5. The Crystal Cave

Trees whizzed by in a blur of brown and green as Arthur, Morgana and Merlin barreled through the forest on foot. Behind them was a horde of bandits, furiously in pursuit.

As they ran, Arthur grumbled between panting breaths, “You just _had_ to go for a ride today, Morgana.”

The trio ducked into a small gulley, stopping to catch their breath. Morgana glared over at Arthur. “You didn’t have to come.”

He shrugged. “It’s my job to protect you.”

As Morgana’s gaze shifted to the other member of their party, Merlin added, “I go where he goes.”

Morgana huffed in annoyance. “It’s not my fault—” she started, but she was interrupted by the yells of the bandits as they rushed towards them.

Roughly grabbing Morgana’s arm, Arthur pulled her towards him and shoved her up the side of the gulley, scrambling up behind her. They all took off running again, ducking under branches and jumping over logs in their path.

They came upon an entryway to a valley, with two giant statues guarding the path. Both Merlin and Morgana could feel the magic emanating from the place, and it gave them pause.

Arthur wasn’t in the mood to be patient, and he pulled Morgana along by her wrist again.

“Arthur.” She attempted to get him to slow down, but he wouldn’t stop. “This is the Valley of the Fallen Kings, we shouldn’t be here.”

“They won’t follow us in here, they wouldn’t dare,” Arthur said, as if that justified treading on sacred ground.

Morgana rolled her eyes and reluctantly followed him, not that she had much of a choice with him dragging her.

After they made it a few steps further, the screams started up again, and Merlin shoved at Arthur and Morgana, forcing them to start running again.

They made it several yards, maintaining a good distance between themselves and the bandits, but suddenly there was a whizzing noise as something cut through the air, and Arthur dropped to the ground. He tugged Morgana down with him, and she landed on her knees on the forest floor.

“Arthur!” she screamed as they fell.

“What happened?” Arthur mumbled.

Merlin rushed to Arthur’s side and tried to lift the prince to his feet, but Arthur couldn’t stand. “An arrow,” Merlin explained.

Morgana watched with wide eyes as Arthur collapsed, an arrow jutting out of his back. “Arthur?” she called, her voice cracking over his name.

Merlin struggled to lift Arthur off the ground, but he managed and started to carry him. Morgana was frozen in shock, and Merlin had to yell at her to get her to move. They managed to find a hidden alcove under some trees in the valley and ducked down there to escape the bandits. Arthur was sprawled on the ground, and Morgana and Merlin were kneeling next to him, hunched over under the branches.

Morgana was eerily calm, the shock stilling her movements and keeping her deathly quiet. Merlin finally had to shake her by the shoulders. “Morgana!” he whispered fiercely. “We have to do something, or we’re going to lose him.”

She came out of her daze; still completely calm, but aware now. Without a word, she reached over and grabbed Merlin’s wrist, twisting it towards her so she could grasp his hand.

Merlin’s eyebrows lifted minutely, and he attempted to pull his hand back, but she wouldn’t let go.

Morgana tightened her grip, twining their fingers together and squeezing until his hand tingled. With her other hand, she rolled Arthur over towards her so she could see the wound. She placed her hand on top of the blood-covered mail, her fingers getting painted in red. She closed her eyes and began to mumble something low beneath her breath. She repeated the same words over and over, but Merlin couldn’t make them out.

As she mumbled, Merlin felt a jolt deep inside him, and he rocked forward from the feeling. Suddenly a warmth spread from his chest, up through his shoulder and down his arm, until it reached where his fingers were connected with Morgana’s. He could feel the energy pouring out of his body and into Morgana’s, and it made him dizzy.

Morgana’s eyes glowed a brilliant golden orange for a moment, and as they faded, she stopped chanting. She released Merlin’s hand, and he took deep, staggering breath as he regained his strength. 

“What did you—” Merlin gasped.

Morgana lifted the hand that was pressed to Arthur’s back, revealing his healed skin under the hole in the chainmail. She turned her head and looked at Merlin. “He’ll be fine.”

Merlin was slowly regaining his normal breathing, and he asked, “How?”

Morgana smiled. “Morgause taught me some healing spells. I didn’t have the energy to do it alone, so I borrowed some of yours.”

“Borrowed?” Merlin coughed.

She could tell from the high pitch of his tone that he was suspicious. “I didn’t steal it, Merlin. I just channeled your energy through me, and combined our magic so it was powerful enough to heal Arthur.”

He nodded slowly. Anything that Morgana learned from Morgause could potentially be dangerous, and it made him wary.

It was obvious that Merlin still didn’t trust her, but Arthur was safe now, and that was all she cared about. “Why don’t you go get some water? He’ll be waking up soon.”

Merlin looked back and forth between Morgana and Arthur, debating. Eventually he stood and walked away from the pair, leaving Morgana to look after the prince.

The bandits had passed through the valley by now, and it was safe for Merlin to explore. He found a small stream and headed towards it, planning to fill his water skin. Before he could reach the bank, he heard a noise.

“Emrys.”

Merlin’s head snapped up, and he whirled around, trying to find the source of the sound. It couldn’t be Morgana or Arthur, neither of them knew that name.

“Emrys,” it called again.

Suddenly, there was an elderly man in front of Merlin. It was as though he had appeared out of thin air.

“Come with me, Emrys. I have something to show you,” the man said.

For some inexplicable reason, Merlin felt as though he could trust this man. His water skin long forgotten, he followed the man. They crossed through the valley until they reached an opening in a rock wall, which led to a cave. 

“What is this place?” Merlin asked. As they entered, the cave led way to a huge opening. From the ceiling to the floor, the place was lined with crystals, all glowing brightly. The feeling of magic enveloped Merlin like a blanket, it was so potent here.

The old man, Taliesin, replied, “This is the place where magic began. It is the crystal cave.”

Merlin stepped forward as one of the crystals caught his eye. He looked into it and saw images, one of Morgana sitting upon the throne with a crown on her head, and another of him as an old man. There was a flash of Morgana and Arthur too, their swords drawn. Merlin turned away as if he’d been burned. “No,” he gasped.

“Look into them, Emrys. Much will be revealed.”

“No, I’ve been through this before.” He shook his head. Seeing the future had come at a terrible price.

“Perhaps there was a reason you were brought here at this moment in time. The crystals contain futures that are not yet born. The secrets they reveal, Emrys, are unique to you. Look into them, really look.” Taliesin pointed towards the crystals.

Merlin reluctantly turned and looked at the crystals again. As he stared at them, a rush of images flashed through. He saw Morgana walking through the halls of the castle, and a bottle of poison clutched in her fingers. The images showed the poison dripping onto Uther’s lips, and then scenes of Arthur, distraught. Merlin saw Uther, dying. He dropped to his knees, gasping for air. “What was that?” he yelled, but he received no answer.

Taliesin was gone, leaving Merlin alone in the caves. It took Merlin a second to process the images, but when he did, he came to a realization. Morgana was going to kill Uther. He made his way back to the camp where he had left Arthur. The images were still looping through his brain, and it was making him twitch.

As Merlin arrived at the alcove under the trees, he could hear voices. Arthur was awake, and he and Morgana were talking.

Arthur caught sight of Merlin first and scoffed. “I told you, Morgana, he really is the most incompetent person I have ever met. I bet he didn’t even bring any water.”

Morgana looked over at Merlin, an eyebrow raised. “Where have you been? We were worried!”

“She was worried,” Arthur corrected. “I know you better than that. You probably just got lost, as usual.”

Merlin couldn’t tear his gaze away from Morgana. The images from the crystals were seared into the backs of his eyes, and he felt a surge of rage towards her.

“Merlin?” Morgana questioned. His intense stare was making her uncomfortable.

Arthur rose from his spot by the fire and came over to Merlin. He snapped his fingers in front of Merlin’s face. “Merlin!”

Merlin shook his head, finally looking away from Morgana. “Sorry. I, um… I got lost, like you said.” 

Arthur turned to Morgana, laughing. “What did I tell you?”

Morgana was skeptical; the way Merlin had looked at her was unnerving.

“Thank god you were here, Morgana. If I had been left alone with this idiot, I would’ve surely died.” Arthur put out the fire and helped Morgana to her feet.

Morgana smiled uncertainly, glancing back at Merlin sporadically.

Arthur continued chattering on, oblivious to the tension between his companions. “Well, we should be getting back home. We wouldn’t want to miss your birthday feast, Morgana.” He looked back at Merlin and grinned cheekily. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you get lost again.”

\---

The walk back to Camelot was long and filled with awkward silences. Arthur thanked Morgana for healing him, but after that they seemed to run out of things to say to one another.

Merlin couldn’t bring himself to speak to either of them; he was still too immersed in his thoughts.

By dusk, they made it back to the city, and Morgana quickly excused herself to the boys and left for her chambers.

Merlin continued to feel uneasy for the rest of the day. He discussed what he saw with Gaius, and told him that he believed the events he saw to be imminent. Gaius was not as convinced, however. He warned Merlin against putting too much trust in the images he saw.

“Crystals are treacherous. What you saw may not be all that it seemed.”

Merlin tried to listen to him, but he feared for what the future held.

\---

The next morning, Merlin came into Arthur’s chambers to find the prince already up and dressed. “You’re up.” Merlin stated incredulously.

Arthur tugged on his boots and hopped up from where he had been sitting on the edge of the bed. “It’s Morgana’s birthday, I have to get her a present.”

“What are you going to get her?” Merlin asked.

Arthur frowned. “I can’t decide. I want it to be something that shows that I know her, but without making it look like—”

“You love her?” Merlin interjected, half under his breath. It was a reflex; he was used to Arthur’s never-ending love story with Morgana.

Arthur shot a glare at his unhelpful servant. “Shut up.”

Merlin shrugged. “So get her jewelry or something. Don’t girls like that stuff?”

“She has a ton of jewelry already,” Arthur mumbled. He wanted it to be something special. She had missed her last birthday with them, after all. He blew out a puff of air in frustration. “I’ll figure something out.”

\---

The feast was held that night, and everyone had come to celebrate Morgana’s birthday. The birthday girl herself was practically glowing. She was wearing one of her favorite cream gowns, with her hair ornately done up and swept to one side, with little jewels pinned in intermittently. She looked gorgeous, and everyone had noticed. Including Arthur.

Arthur couldn’t take his eyes off of Morgana for most of the night, despite his attempts to look away. She looked the happiest he had seen her in a long time, and he couldn’t help but watch the intricate little movements of her face as she smiled and laughed. 

Morgana was enjoying the feast immensely, and not simply because she was being showered with gifts. It was nice to have people talk to her, people who genuinely seemed to appreciate her presence. Camelot actually felt like home again, if only for a night.

As the feast wore on, Morgana received her gift from Uther. He had a glint to his eye that she couldn’t decipher as he pushed the box towards her. The present was a necklace, and Morgana latched it around her neck.

Uther smiled at her as she put it on, but there was something underneath the façade of happiness, and Morgana could sense it.

Morgana blinked at him curiously. He had barely spoken to her since she returned, and it was obvious that he was slightly doubtful of her miraculous recovery. She smiled tentatively back at him in a show of thanks for the necklace.

Luckily, Arthur had impeccable timing, and interrupted by ordering a servant to bring over his present for Morgana.

As the box was set in front of her, Morgana stood up, grinning from ear to ear. “Arthur,” she murmured brightly, looking over at him.

He nodded at her, trying to contain his own smile. “Happy birthday, Morgana.”

Morgana opened the box carefully and reached inside. She pulled out her present, revealing it to everyone in the room. It was a dagger, and one of the most beautiful pieces of weaponry Morgana had ever seen. It had a golden hilt and sheath, and it was decorated with jewels and covered in intricate patterns. Morgana let out a small gasp as she unsheathed the blade, examining it.

Arthur watched, holding his breath in apprehension. It had taken him a while, but he eventually had remembered that Morgana had once complained about how all the boys got to carry around swords, but she couldn’t because she was a lady. It had been years ago, and this wasn’t exactly a sword, but it was a weapon, and she could easily carry it in her belt. It was something simple, but he felt like it was fitting for her.

Morgana’s grin got even wider, and she turned to Arthur happily. “It’s beautiful,” she gushed.

Arthur smiled, pleased with her reaction. He watched as she flipped the dagger over in her hands, studying every detail.

Morgana continued to get presents, but none were as good as Arthur’s. She graciously accepted them all with a smile, but her eyes kept glancing back at the box with the dagger. As the night grew late, she excused herself to her guests so she could retire. Everyone wished her a happy birthday one last time, and she slipped out of the great hall. Her presents were collected and sent up to her room for her to go through later, except for the dagger, which she carried by herself.

Arthur watched her go, and for some inexplicable reason, found himself rising from the table and following her. He hadn’t been in the habit of trailing after her recently, but he fell into it just like before, echoing her footsteps as she walked to her chambers. The torches in the hall were flickering out, the light dim, but Arthur followed the shadows.

Morgana entered her room and set the dagger down carefully on her armoire. As she started to unpin her hair, she heard a faint knock at the door. Leaving her hair half undone, she walked over to the door, expecting to see a guard laden down with her presents. Instead, she found Arthur on the other side. His forehead was scrunched in the middle, as though he was confused as to why he had ended up outside her door. “Arthur?” she asked.

His tongue was dry, and it stuck to the roof of his mouth. He couldn’t think of anything to say; he didn’t really have a reason for following her. “I just wanted to check on you.”

She smiled at him, her amusement shining in her eyes. “You only saw me a moment ago, Arthur.”

Ducking his head in embarrassment, he managed to articulate, “I wanted to make sure that you had a good birthday.”

Quirking an eyebrow, she retorted, “If this is a subtle way of asking if I liked your present, I thought you would’ve already figured out that I adore it.”

Arthur chuckled, but the vibrations grated on his dry throat and stung. “I’m serious, Morgana.” It was important to him that she was happy now; something deep in him craved her happiness more than anything else. 

Her last birthday was one of the worst days of his life. He had searched for her for the whole day, scouring the land for hours without stopping to rest or eat, and he eventually passed out from exhaustion. Merlin found him unconscious in a field and had to drag him home—but he couldn’t tell her that.

Morgana studied his face carefully before softly answering, “Yes, Arthur. I had a wonderful birthday.”

He let out a long breath, his shoulders visibly relaxing.

Morgana gently set a hand on his upper arm, smoothing her fingers across the fabric of his robes. “Thanks for checking on me.”

Her touch seemed to jar him out of his strange behavior, and he stepped back, moving away from her. “You’re welcome,” he mumbled. “Good night, Morgana.”

Her hand fell limply back to her side as she watched him leave.

\---

After Arthur left, Morgana sorted through all her presents. She had gotten a copious amount of hairbrushes for some reason, and she stacked them all on the edge of her armoire. As she continued to look, she found a looking glass, addressed as being from some king she had never heard of before. She smiled and studied the mirror, realizing that it must be from her sister. She breathed on the glass, creating a fog on the surface. It revealed a message, asking to meet tonight out in the woods.

She hadn’t seen her sister in several weeks, and she was starting to miss her. It would be nice to see her today, since it was her birthday.

Slipping out of her nightgown, she donned her red dress and matching cloak, along with a pair of boots. As an afterthought, she grabbed her new dagger, tucking it in her belt.

Following her well-worn escape route, she quickly found herself out in the woods and free from the city’s walls. She found Morgause already waiting for her, and she smiled brightly at her sister.

Morgause embraced Morgana, but there was something hesitant about her actions. “Happy birthday, sister,” she whispered as she released Morgana from the hug.

“It’s good to see you,” Morgana told her, still basking in the glow of her enjoyable day.

Morgause could tell that her sister was happy, and she felt guilty for not bringing better news. “Morgana, there’s something you must know.”

Morgana’s smile fell; she knew Morgause well enough to sense when something was wrong.

“I fear that Uther did not buy the story of your revival from the dead. He has been sending out search parties, scouring the land surrounding the isle, looking for the people who supposedly healed you.” Morgause took a breath before continuing, “He has already attacked several Druid camps, but as expected, he has not found anyone who can corroborate your story, as it is untrue. I feel that it will not be long before he discovers the flaws in your lies.”

Morgana’s eyes widened, fear creeping through her bones. “Has he attacked the isle?” she asked, fearing for her sister’s safety as well.

Morgause shook her head. “Do not fret, sister. I am safe on the isle. Any men Uther sent out would get lost in the mist. Only those with magic can make it to the isle on their own.”

While Morgana was relieved that her sister was safe, she was still struck with an unshakable sense of terror. Yet, despite that, she clung to one last hope. Arthur. “Was Arthur part of the attacks?” she asked.

Morgause heard the desperate hopefulness in Morgana’s tone, and it made her flinch. “I do not know for certain. But Morgana, they were his men. He is the king’s son; I do not see how he would not know of this.”

Morgana shook her head. “No,” she breathed. “He wouldn’t do this.”

Morgause reached out and took Morgana’s hands, holding them tightly. “Come back to the isle with me, Morgana. You’ll be safe there. We can continue our fight together. Do not put yourself at risk like this.”

“I can’t leave,” Morgana murmured.

“Morgana—”

Morgana cut off her sister’s plea. “It would only confirm his suspicions. I have to stay.” 

Morgause slowly released Morgana’s hands. “I thought you would say that.” She reached into a pocket in her cloak, the muscles in her wrist flexing as she closed her fist around something. “I will not let anyone harm you, sister. If you are set on staying, then take this.” She pulled out a small vial in her hand. Through the cracks in between her fingers, a yellowish liquid was visible inside the bottle.

Morgana opened her hand and allowed Morgause to place the bottle on her palm.

“It’s poison,” Morgause explained. “You must strike now, Morgana, eliminate him before anyone else suspects who you really are.”

Morgana swallowed against the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. “Morgause, I—”

“I know it’s hard, but do not forget, this was our plan from the start. It may not be the way you thought, but he needs to be eliminated, now more than ever.” She forced Morgana’s fingers down, closing them around the bottle. “This poison is barely detectable, it will kill him slowly, and no one will suspect a thing.”

Morgana chewed on the inside of her lip. She did want Uther gone, but if Arthur was no better… she didn’t think she’d be able to stand it.

Morgause leaned forward and kissed Morgana’s cheek. “You can do this, Morgana. You must. It won't be long until he kills us both. He will not rest until he is satisfied.”

Morgana nodded stiffly. “I understand.” She did, but it didn’t take away the sinking feeling in her stomach.

\---

When Morgana returned to Camelot, she found the city sleeping. She passed through the courtyard, feeling strangely like she was being watched. She clutched the bottle tightly in her fingers as she crept up the stairs in the castle, her sister’s warning ringing in her ears. Stopping at Uther’s door, her fingers shook as she reached for the handle. She had to do this now, or she’d lose her nerve.

She carefully opened the door to his chambers, making sure not to wake the sleeping king. Her blood was pumping so loudly in her ears; she feared he might hear her pounding heart.

This was a turning point, she knew. If she did this, Uther would die, and Arthur would become king. But if he knew… If she killed his father, he’d never forgive her. Could she accept that fate? Was it enough to live and to be free if she lost Arthur? She forced herself to ignore those thoughts and dragged herself forward.

She stood over Uther’s sleeping form, watching him. The bottle of poison was digging into her skin, she was squeezing it so fiercely. Lifting the bottle, she took out the stopper, leaving it open. If she didn’t do this, how many more would he get the chance to kill? Morgause was right, he wouldn’t stop. This was about more than just her. She was just the weapon.

Extending her arm, she held the bottle over Uther’s lips. She started to tip the bottle, but her hands shook too badly. Arthur’s face kept swimming across her vision, making it hard to concentrate. Using her other hand, she clamped her fingers over her shaking wrist, trying to steady her arm. She carefully tilted the vial, turning it on its side. As she moved, a drop fell from the bottle onto to Uther’s lips, and Morgana watched, mesmerized. The poison ran over his mouth, leaving a wet trail across his skin. The bottle stayed suspended where she held it, but no more liquid escaped over the rim. She couldn’t get her hand to move any more, it was completely stiff. Morgana’s mouth fell open in astonishment as realization swept over her.

She couldn’t do it. She yanked her hand away, releasing her hold on her wrist and using her free hand to cover her mouth and stifle a sob. She backed away, horrified by her actions. She wasn’t a killer, even if Uther did deserve to die a hundred deaths for the suffering he caused. This wasn’t right, she couldn’t take his life. Part of her wanted to, desperately, but a voice in her head was screaming at her to stop, and it sounded suspiciously like Arthur.

Unable to stay there any longer, she ran out of the room, barreling down the halls. Tears were burning her eyes, and she needed to see Arthur. The cool glass of the bottle bit at her flesh as she carried it, but she couldn’t let go.

Morgana rounded a corner; she was nearly at Arthur’s room. She had to see him, he would fix this; he had to fix it. He couldn’t have been a part of the attacks; he would protect her, he had promised he always would. Her breath was coming in shallow pants, but she didn’t stop running.

Morgana didn’t bother to look at her surroundings; she was too focused on Arthur’s door looming in front of her. Therefore, when a torch toppled off the wall and into her path, she was too slow to react to properly avoid it. She jumped back in shock, and her foot caught on the edge of a stair. Already unsteady, she lost her balance and stumbled to the side, causing her to go plummeting down the staircase. She flipped head over heels as she fell, and her screams echoed throughout the stairwell. As she reached the bottom, her head connected with the hard stone, and she lost consciousness immediately.

A man had witnessed it all, and he appeared at the top of the stairs, looking down at Morgana’s broken body. He shook his head miserably at the sight, breathing out, “No.” He hadn’t wanted this. He only meant to stop her from harming Arthur, he hadn’t meant for this to happen.

Taking a deep breath, Merlin forced himself to move. He wasn’t going to fix anything by standing there. He went to Arthur’s room and banged on the door until the prince answered. Before Arthur could ask, Merlin blurted, “It’s Morgana.”

Arthur scrubbed at his eyes and tugged on a shirt, not recognizing Merlin’s sense of urgency in his half asleep state.

Merlin grabbed Arthur’s wrist and pulled him down the hall until they reached the stairs.

As Arthur’s eyes adjusted, he registered the sight in front of him, and he had to grip the wall to keep from falling. The wave of nausea and crushing pain that hit him nearly knocked him off his feet. “Morgana,” he murmured brokenly. His entire being ached, and he forced a gasping breath into his lungs.

Merlin mumbled quietly, “We have to get her to Gaius.”

Arthur could barely hear Merlin’s words, but he nodded numbly. His fingers had gone white from gripping the wall; he relaxed them and made his way down the stairs. The sight of blood trickling down Morgana’s face made him sway, and he nearly tripped. He managed to hold it together for Morgana’s sake, though. Gingerly, he slipped an arm under her knees, and another under her back. He lifted her up carefully, making sure that her head was resting against his shoulder as he moved. He carefully ascended the stairs, trying not to jostle her and make her condition worse.

As quickly as they could manage, Arthur and Merlin took Morgana to Gaius’s chambers.

Gaius was surprised to see them, but he quickly cleared his work bench so Arthur could set Morgana down there.

Arthur didn’t want to let her go, but he knew that Gaius needed to treat her. He tried to stay close, but Gaius kept pushing him out of the way.

“How could this have happened?” Arthur wondered aloud. No one answered him, and he started to pace back and forth across the chambers. Gaius eventually shooed him out, unable to work with the distraction. Arthur left the chambers, but stayed right outside the door, continuing to pace there instead.

Gaius ordered Merlin to get some different herbs to fight infection, and then he set out cleaning and treating the wound on Morgana’s head. He sewed the wound shut, but the prognosis was grim. She was having trouble breathing, and it was clear that her injuries extended far beyond the superficial.

Arthur was still pacing, his worry transforming into nervous energy. He slowed when he noticed Gaius looking at him from the doorway. “Gaius?” he asked, sounding very much like a small little boy. 

The physician looked weary. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I can heal her skin, but the skull… her cranium is broken. She’s bleeding inside.”

“No,” Arthur murmured. Anger rose up inside him, and he yelled, “No!” He shoved past Gaius, rushing to Morgana’s side.

Merlin came up to Arthur and pulled him back. “Arthur…”

Arthur struggled against his friend’s arms. “She’s not going to die!”

After a bit of a fight, Merlin managed to pry Arthur away from Morgana and get him up to his own room. Arthur collapsed into his bed, mumbling to himself about how Morgana was going to be fine. Eventually sleep overtook him, and he fell silent.

\---

Merlin walked back to his chambers with a heavy heart. He saw Gaius waiting for him, and he sat down next to the older man. “I had to stop her, Gaius.”

Gaius remained silent, letting Merlin talk.

“She had the bottle of poison, the same I saw in my vision. I thought she was going to kill Arthur.”

“Arthur?” Gaius questioned. “I thought you saw her killing Uther?”

Merlin nodded. “I did, but she was headed to Arthur’s room. I couldn’t let her harm him.”

Gaius was skeptical. Merlin had mentioned that Morgana had saved Arthur’s life only a day ago; it didn’t seem likely that she would cure him only to poison him now. Gaius didn’t want to upset Merlin, however, so he decided not to say anything.

“I wanted to stop her, but not like this.” He let his head drop, his eyes studying the floor.

Reaching his arm around Merlin’s back, Gaius tried his best to comfort the boy.

\---

The next day, Uther went to see Morgana, playing his role as the loving guardian, but he started to feel ill, and quickly left her in Gaius’s care.

Merlin watched as the rest of the people in the city all mourned, devastated at losing their beloved lady of Camelot, for a second time. He saw Gwen sobbing over Morgana’s sleeping form. She rarely left Morgana’s side since she had heard the news. Merlin could no longer stand to be there, so he left to do his chores for Arthur.

It was possibly a bad decision, for Arthur was even worse. He wasn’t crying or openly mourning, but his pain was abundantly clear in his every movement. He tried to don his armor, but his hands shook, and he ended up throwing things across the room. 

Merlin somehow felt obligated to apologize, even if he couldn’t tell Arthur the whole truth. “I’m sorry about Morgana.”

More to himself than Merlin, Arthur mumbled the words that had become his mantra. “She’s going to be fine.” He looked over at Merlin, his eyes pleading. “She came back before, she can do it again.”

Merlin sighed. “This is different. Gaius said—”

“She is going to be fine!” Arthur snapped, his voice edged with hysteria. He sunk into a chair, his elbows settling on the table as he dropped his face into his hands. “She can’t die, Merlin. Not after everything that’s happened. You know how much I…” he trailed off, unable to say it out loud.

Merlin bit down on the inside of his cheek, the guilt overwhelming him. “I know.”

Lifting his head, Arthur stared off into nothingness. “I’d sacrifice my place on the throne for her to see another sunrise.” Truthfully, he’d give up more than that. He’d give up the whole world for her if he must.

Unable to stand it any longer, Merlin turned away. He knew what this would do to Arthur, he had seen it before. He left, making up excuses about helping Gaius so he could escape.

\---

After staying with Morgana for most of the morning, Gwen took a break to eat and clean up, since she had been awake most of the night, ever since she heard about the accident. She tried to get some chores done, since she knew that if Morgana awoke, she’d want her dresses cleaned.

It only took about two minutes of staring at Morgana’s dress for Gwen to start crying again. Her head was already throbbing from all the tears she had shed earlier, but it didn’t matter. The thought of losing Morgana for good was horrifying. It had taken months for her to grieve the last time, she wasn’t sure she could go through it again.

Arthur was pacing the halls, a change from pacing around his room, and he heard the muffled sobs coming from under Morgana’s door. He stopped and pushed the door open, revealing Guinevere sitting in the floor, holding one of Morgana’s gowns in her lap.

Her head snapped up when Arthur came in, her eyes glistening with tears. “Arthur,” she cried.

Arthur knelt down in front of her, slowly taking the dress from her hands.

“No,” Gwen choked out, “I have to clean it. She loves this dress, I have to—” A sob erupted from her chest, and she covered her mouth with her hand.

Arthur gently wrapped his arms around Gwen’s shoulders, pulling her in to his chest.

Gwen buried her face in his shirt, taking in several deep breaths. “We already lost her once, I don’t know if I can do it a second time.”

Arthur ran his hand over her hair, trying to comfort her. “I know,” he murmured. His voice sounded hollow, and his eyes were vacant as he stared around Morgana’s room. He could feel Guinevere in his arms, but there was no warmth in her touch.

Gwen could sense that he was distant, and she pulled back from his embrace. She studied his face as he continued to stare. “Arthur?”

His attention went back to Guinevere, but his body was still rigid, and his eyes glassy.

It was painfully familiar to see him this way, and a rush of memories hit Gwen as she watched him. He was broken, just like before, and she didn’t think she’d be able to put him back together this time. Only one person could. “You should be with Morgana,” she told him. 

Arthur blinked at her. 

There was a double meaning behind her statement, but there was too much happening for Gwen to make it clear for him. She was falling apart, but even through her pain, she could tell, Arthur needed Morgana, and not like he needed her. She had to let him go. But for now, she could be selfish a little while longer; neither of them could take the extra heartache at the moment.

He ducked his head, feeling guilty. He had been trying to avoid going to see Morgana; he didn’t think he could handle it. 

Gwen tipped her head in the direction of the door. “Go,” she instructed. “I’ll be fine.”

Arthur helped Guinevere to her feet, kissing the top of her head before leaving her alone in Morgana’s room.

\---

After leaving Gwen, Arthur considered going to see Morgana, but every time he neared the stairs leading to the physician’s chambers, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He ended up putting on his armor and going out to practice, even though it was pouring.

He practiced his sword fighting on the training dummy, delivering several well placed blows like he had been trained to do. After a few more minutes, his movements started to get sloppy, and his demeanor much more violent. Ignoring all of the proper moves, he sliced at the dummy in a flurry of brutal attacks. His sword slammed into the head of the fake person, causing it to disconnect from the body and fly through the air, landing several feet away.

Arthur dropped the sword, breathing heavily. He was drenched, the rain getting in his eyes and masking his tears. He couldn’t avoid it any longer, he needed to see Morgana. Even if it was to say goodbye.

\---

Arthur crept into Gaius’s chambers, finding it empty, save for the sleeping girl in the middle. He quietly walked over, each step agonizingly slow, his feet feeling like they were encased in lead. There was a chair beside the bed, where Gwen had been sitting most of the day, and Arthur lowered himself into it. He took a deep breath, looking down at Morgana’s face. She looked so pale, her lips were drained of color, and the cut on her temple had faded from an angry red to a deep purple.

He shook his head; it hurt to see her like this. “I won’t let you do this,” he murmured angrily. “I lost you once, I won’t do it again.”

He lifted his arm and reached over the bed, his hand shaking. He grabbed her fingers and squeezed them, trying to stop the tremors. “You can’t die on me.” He swallowed the burgeoning sobs in his throat, refusing to break down. “Do you hear me? You have to fight this. You fight like hell to come back to me, Morgana.”

The tremors in his hand spread through his body, and he eventually let out a strangled cry in order to release the build-up of emotions. He dropped his head, letting it rest against her chest. “I need you to come back.”

Merlin had been in his room and had overheard the conversation. He moved out into the main room, his eyes landing on Arthur, watching as the prince cried over Morgana. The floor creaked as he took a step, and he knew Arthur heard it.

Arthur slowly lifted his head up and looked over at Merlin. He dropped Morgana’s fingers, but didn’t move from her side. “I can’t lose her,” he admitted, his voice still thick with tears. “I can’t.” He looked back down at Morgana’s sleeping form, and whispered in barely audible tones, “I love her.”

Morgana’s finger twitched, but neither man seemed to notice.

Merlin swallowed, the scene breaking his heart. “I know, Arthur.”

Hearing Merlin’s voice seemed to snap him out of his wallowing, and Arthur’s face hardened. “We have to do something.”

“Arthur…” Merlin tried.

Arthur stood up from the chair and walked over to Merlin. “What about a healing spell? She healed my wounds in the woods.”

“But who would—” Merlin started to ask.

“She said Morgause taught her, perhaps she would help. Morgana is her sister, after all.”

Merlin was surprised by Arthur’s suggestion. “Morgause? Arthur, she’s dangerous.”

“I don’t care!” He snapped, his eyes alight with fury. “She could save her.”

Merlin shook his head. “We could never get to her in time. It’s nearly a day’s ride to get to the Isle of the Blessed, and we aren’t even certain that Morgause is still living there.”

Arthur’s shoulders slumped, but he didn’t give up hope yet. A thought occurred to him and he suddenly ranted, “Can’t you do something? You’re a Dragonlord, doesn’t that count for something?”

He thought Arthur had forgotten about that. “Arthur, I can’t—” 

Arthur interrupted, “Call the dragon, make him heal her, they can do that can’t they?”

“Perhaps, but it’s not that simple…” He knew that Arthur wanted Morgana back, but if the crystals had been correct, she was dangerous.

Ignoring Merlin’s inner turmoil, Arthur yelled, “Make it simple! I will not let her die, Merlin. Not again, not when I can do something.”

Merlin sighed. It was obvious that Arthur wasn’t going to give up, and he knew that this path would only lead to madness. Maybe it would be best if he did save Morgana. After all, he had never intended to kill her. Giving in, he murmured, “I’ll see what I can do.”

The corner of Arthur’s mouth quirked up into the tiniest half smile, and he clapped a hand over Merlin’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

\---

Merlin went out to an empty field beyond Camelot’s walls and summoned the great dragon to meet him. Kilgharrah heeded the call and arrived soon after.

Merlin explained what had happened, how he had tried to stop the future. “As a result of what I did, Morgana is dying.”

Kilgharrah listened intently, commenting when Merlin finished, “To change the future is no simple matter, Merlin. To do so is fraught with danger.”

“I know,” Merlin replied. He looked away from the dragon, quietly requesting, “I want you to help me to save her.” 

Merlin braced himself for the dragon’s reaction, expecting him to laugh in his face, but he only received silence in response.

“Will you help?” Merlin asked hesitantly.

Kilgharrah tilted his large head, pondering the situation. “If you wish.”

Merlin felt the sudden urge to laugh. He was shocked that the dragon wasn’t opposed to saving Morgana’s life. “I thought you wanted her to die? You said she was dangerous.”

“It’s true, I did warn you against the witch, but things change.” He bent his neck to better look at Merlin, continuing, “Her path is unclear. Perhaps she is not the threat she once was.”

Merlin was both shocked and relieved at the news, feeling justified now in saving Morgana. 

As requested, Kilgharrah gave Merlin temporary healing abilities. The dragon breathed out, covering Merlin in a rush of magic that would allow him to save Morgana.

Stumbling back from the rush of power, Merlin took a moment to recover before quickly making his way back to the castle.

\---

When Merlin arrived at his chambers, he found Gwen asleep at Morgana’s bedside. He gently woke her up and told her to go home and get some rest.

She protested at first, but she was too exhausted to fight. She made Merlin promise to call her if Morgana woke up, and he told her that he would.

As Gwen left, Merlin took her place in the seat next to Morgana. He watched Morgana for a moment, studying the way her chest rose and fell with each ragged breath. In the low light of the candles, the shadows and bruises on her face were startling, and he had to tear his eyes away. This was his doing, and he needed to make it right.

Once he was sure that no one was around to witness it, he placed a hand over Morgana’s forehead and mumbled the words that had been etched onto his bones. The spell came out in a deep and raspy voice, with echoes of the language of the dragons underneath it. His hand shook from the amount of power coursing through his veins, and he had to force himself to keep his arm steady.

With one final utterance of the spell, his eyes glowed, and he could feel the breath of life passing through his fingers before it reached Morgana’s chest.

Morgana took in a large gulp of air as the magic healed her from within, her breathing now back to normal. Her skin gradually regained its color, the pinkness returning to her cheeks and the shadows fading from under her eyes. Her lips were no longer dry and cracked, and her wounds were completely healed.

Merlin watched in amazement as the magic did its work. Morgana was still embedded in her sleep, so he left her to recover on her own. He went straight to Arthur’s chambers, knowing that the prince would be waiting for the news.

\---

As expected, when Arthur heard that Morgana was going to live, he was ecstatic. He even hugged Merlin, not that he would ever admit it.

After his initial excitement, he contained himself, making sure to keep a lid on his feelings. He desperately wanted to see Morgana, but he stayed away for as long as he could, not fully trusting himself around her. It had taken two months and Morgana nearly dying for him to finally admit that his feelings for her weren’t as nonexistent as he tried to make himself believe. He had never stopped loving her, not even for a second, and the thought terrified him. Therefore, visiting Morgana was not something he wanted to do yet. It would only make things worse, and he wasn’t ready for that.

Gwen, on the other hand, wanted to see Morgana as soon as she could. She didn’t hear the news until nearly midday, and even then, she had to wait. Uther had gone to see the miracle of Morgana’s survival for himself, and he spent a considerable amount of time in Gaius’s chambers. He must have wanted to ensure that his ward was truly cured, Gwen assumed.

After Gaius ran some tests, he declared Morgana completely healthy, and she was released from his care. She was told to try and rest for the remainder of the day though, just in case.

Gwen came to Morgana’s chambers soon after Gaius left, knocking lightly on the door.

“Come in,” Morgana called from the other side.

Gwen opened the door, smiling sweetly at Morgana.

“Gwen,” Morgana breathed. “Come here.” She patted the space next to her on the bed.

Her giddy feeling at seeing Morgana healthy overrode any nervousness she might have felt, considering their tense relationship. She walked over and sat on the bed. “How are you doing?”

“I’ve never been better,” Morgana answered. “Whatever remedy Gaius used worked wonders.”

Gwen choked out a joyful cry. “I’m so glad,” she murmured, her voice heavy with emotion. “I was so worried about you.”

Morgana reached her arm out across the sheets and grasped Guinevere’s hand. “I’m sorry, Gwen.”

Shaking her head, Gwen protested, “No, no, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Not about that.” She squeezed Gwen’s fingers a little tighter. “I’m sorry about everything else. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry with you, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Gwen’s eyes widened as she realized what Morgana was talking about. “Morgana, I—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Morgana interrupted. “I forgive you.”

Still stuck mid sentence, Gwen’s mouth snapped shut at Morgana’s words.

“You mean too much to me. I won’t let a fight over Arthur, of all people,” Morgana laughed, “ruin our friendship.”

Gwen laughed as well, the sound mixed with a small sob.

“I miss you,” Morgana admitted. When she had woken up that morning, the first thing she had done was look for Gwen, out of habit. The terror of almost dying had left her longing for her friend to hold her and tell her it would be alright.

“I miss you too,” Gwen echoed, a watery smile on her lips. Twisting the hand in Morgana’s grasp, she reached her fingers around and squeezed Morgana’s hand as reassurance.

They stayed like that for a while, until Gwen noticed the setting sun outside the window. “It’s getting late, I should go.”

Morgana still had her grip on Gwen’s hand, and she tugged on it. “Why don’t you stay? You can sleep here, like we did when we were kids.”

Gwen smiled, shaking her head at Morgana. She could never turn Morgana down, however, so she ended up curling up on one side of the bed, staying there for the night.

Morgana fell asleep quickly, her body tired from repairing itself. Gwen remained awake, watching over Morgana as she slept, keeping her safe until morning.

\---

The next day, Morgana wrote a letter to her sister. She told her what had happened, and explained that she would not kill Uther Pendragon, no matter how much she wanted to. It may mean that she would have to face his wrath someday, but it was a risk she was going to take. Life was too fragile, she had seen that, and she didn’t want to spend her life filled with hate. She didn’t want to be miserable, and she would never be truly happy if she was constantly obsessed with Uther’s demise. He would die soon enough, and Arthur would be king. As much as she disliked the thought of letting Uther’s reign of terror continue, she couldn’t be the one to stop him, not if it meant she would lose herself in the process. At the end of the note, she wished her sister well, and told her that she hoped that someday they could be together again.

She tied the note to the ankle of a raven and sent the bird out to her sister, hoping that it would reach her. She knew that Morgause wouldn’t be happy with her decision, she would think it reckless, but Morgana could aide her in her vendetta no longer.

There were more important things.

Morgana faintly recalled hearing Arthur talking over her while she was on her deathbed. He needed her, she remembered that. Killing Uther would take her down a path he could not follow, and she couldn’t leave him, not again. Camelot needed her, and she would not abandon them. She would stay and help shape Arthur into a great king, one who would rectify all the damage done by his father. She held onto that faith, and that would have to be enough to help her endure the rest of Uther’s rule. Arthur would make it right; she would make sure of it.

\---

Arthur continued to avoid Morgana, walking aimlessly around the castle to distract himself. He ended up walking down into the lower town, and he somehow found himself at Guinevere’s door.

Gwen let him in, noticing the turmoil behind his eyes. She preempted anything he had to say before he could even open his mouth, telling him, “It’s okay, Arthur.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her, his forehead knitting in confusion.

She elaborated, “I know why you’re here, and I understand.”

Arthur wanted to say that he would like very much for her to explain it to him, since he didn’t even know why he was there, but the words caught in his throat. As he stared at her, he realized why his feet had carried him there. He had to tell Gwen the truth about his feelings.

At his silence, Gwen asked, “Arthur?”

He wet his lips slowly, but when he opened his mouth, he only managed to get out, “How?”

Gwen shook her head at him. “I’m not blind, Arthur. I knew this was going to happen.” The lightness to her tone vanished, and she swallowed the lump that formed in her throat, forcing herself to keep talking. “What you had with Morgana… a love like that doesn’t just vanish. It was foolish of me to try and keep you apart.”

“Guinevere, no.” Arthur shook his head. It had always bothered him how little Gwen thought of herself. She was important, even if she couldn’t see it.

“It’s alright, Arthur.” She forced out a smile. “We knew that this could never last. You’re going to be king someday, and you’ll need a great queen by your side.” Knowingly, she added, “Someone like Morgana.”

He shook his head, protesting, “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Guinevere.”

Light, tinkling laughter passed her lips. “Perhaps not. But that doesn’t change the fact that you love Morgana. You always have.”

Arthur ducked his head, unable to deny her claims.

The look on his face was more than enough to confirm her suspicions. 

He looked up, meeting Gwen’s eyes. “You’re one of the best people I’ve ever known, Guinevere.” He smiled softly at her. “Know that you’ll always have a place in my heart; nothing will change that.”

Stepping up onto her tiptoes, Gwen kissed his cheek, letting her lips linger for a moment. As she pulled away, she whispered, “Goodbye, Arthur.”

“Goodbye, Guinevere.” He left her house, closing the door behind him. He looked up at the castle, and caught sight of Morgana at her window. Smiling, he made his way back home.


	6. The Changeling

In the weeks after Morgana’s near death experience, Arthur was teetering between deciding to tell Morgana how he felt and finding a way to force himself to get over her. He couldn’t make up his mind, and Morgana wasn’t helping the situation.

After rekindling her friendship with Guinevere, Morgana seemed so much brighter, and Arthur felt he would blind himself if he looked at her for too long. She was happier, and it seemed that she had inadvertently forgiven him along with Gwen, and therefore she had no qualms about spending time with him.

He tried to avoid her, but she was always _there_ , inviting him to come to the lake, or cornering him after a feast and teasing him about drinking too much. She didn’t know that he and Guinevere had decided to end things, and he couldn’t find the right way to tell her. It was getting to the point where Guinevere would glare at him in the halls, and Merlin kept giving him pointed looks whenever Morgana was near. It was quite frustrating.

Somehow, Arthur had ended up alone at dinner with Morgana one night. Uther had strangely been disappearing more and more often when Morgana was around, and he often skipped their ‘family’ meals. Morgana didn’t seem to mind, although Arthur expected she enjoyed the escape from his father.

As Morgana ate, she would smile at him over her food from time to time, using that sweet smile of hers that she reserved for him. Arthur had to dig his fingernails into his leg, trying to focus on something else.

Morgana started talking about her day, gushing about some encounter she had in the market earlier. She was going on about how the shopkeeper had been so sweet, and how they had given her some of their wares for free.

Arthur nodded intermittently, not truly listening. As her story continued, it became too much for him, and he snapped. “Morgana,” he interrupted. “I don’t really care.” He knew it was the wrong thing to say, but he couldn’t stop watching the way her mouth formed around the words as she spoke, and he had to do something to get her to stop.

Morgana pouted adorably, and it nearly broke Arthur’s heart. Her pout quickly shifted into a mask of anger, and she got up from her seat, leaving her dinner unfinished on the table. With a huff, she stormed off, not bothering to give him the courtesy of a goodbye.

As Morgana left, Merlin watched from the corner. He rolled his eyes and mumbled just loud enough for Arthur to hear, “Idiot.”

Arthur was still in a daze, staring at the spot where Morgana had been not five seconds before.

“Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?” Merlin asked.

“Because, I—” he stopped short and glared at his manservant. “Shut up, Merlin.”

Merlin cleared Morgana’s dishes, mumbling about how stupid Arthur was under his breath.

\---

The next day marked the arrival of Lord Godwyn and his daughter, Princess Elena. Arthur went to meet them with his father, and received some rather unsettling news while he waited.

Uther had been talking for a while, and he finished, “Lord Godwyn is an ally of Camelot, and we thought, if you and Elena… Well, the strength of such a match between our kingdoms would be extremely beneficial.”

“Match?” Arthur asked.

“A permanent union, a way to cement our alliance,” Uther elaborated.

“You mean…” Arthur’s eyes widened and his gaze fell on Princess Elena as she approached. “Father, you can’t be serious.”

Uther nodded, smiling brightly despite Arthur’s reaction. “A marriage would be the perfect way.”

“Marriage?” Arthur spluttered, but he was ignored as his father walked away. He scanned the crowd, his eyes falling on Gwen and Morgana as they were animatedly greeting Princess Elena. He thought he might be sick.

\---

Arthur instructed Merlin and Guinevere to help Lord Godwyn and Elena with their things. He was ruder than usual, snapping at Merlin for the silliest of things. Eventually Gwen pulled him aside, knowing him well enough to see that something was troubling him.

“What’s wrong, Arthur?”

Arthur stopped beside her in the hall, letting out a sigh. “It’s just—my father had this ridiculous idea. He expects me to marry Princess Elena.”

Gwen’s mouth dropped open slightly, surprised by the news. She struggled to find the right words, and eventually all that came out was, “I always thought he meant for you and…” She trailed off, but it was obvious what the rest of the sentence would have been.

Arthur chuckled darkly, the sound barely passing his lips. “As did I,” he admitted. He had always assumed he’d marry Morgana someday, even before he had the idea on his own. “I guess he changed his mind.”

Gwen lightly set her hand on his arm, trailing her fingers down over his wrist, leaving him with the comforting gesture.

Arthur was still trying not to scream.

\---

By that night, Arthur was still complaining, and Merlin was stuck listening to it as he prepared Arthur for bed. 

“She’s actually quite nice. A bit… unpolished, but nice,” Merlin interjected.

Arthur cut his eyes at Merlin. “The same could be said about you, Merlin, and it’s not like I want to marry you either.”

Merlin brought his hand to his chest, pretending to be wounded. As Arthur rolled his eyes, Merlin went back to fixing the bed, asking, “Are you sure the king really expects you to marry her? Maybe it was just a suggestion.”

Arthur huffed. “He said that he and Lord Godwyn have been planning this for years; I don’t think it was just a passing idea.”

Frowning, Merlin blurted, “But everyone thought that—”

“Yes, Merlin, _I know._ ” Arthur grumbled.

Before Merlin could respond, Uther entered the room. He addressed Arthur, “I wish to speak with you. Alone.”

Merlin exited the room, leaving Arthur and his father to discuss things. He hovered out in the hall for a moment, listening to Uther lecture Arthur about the marriage, and his duties as a king. With a sigh, Merlin left to do his chores.

Inside the room, Arthur was sighing as well.

“You may one day be a husband, but more importantly, you will be a king, and you have a duty to your people,” Uther ranted.

“Yes, Father, I know, but there must be another way to provide for the people. Elena is not the only woman with whom a marriage would benefit Camelot,” Arthur reasoned. His head was throbbing, his ears ringing with one name in particular.

Uther narrowed his eyes, but chose to ignore his son’s statement. “Lord Godwyn is a powerful man, and a close friend. This alliance would provide safety and security to the kingdom.”

Arthur shook his head. “But I have no feelings for her, whatsoever.”

“Then I suggest you find some.”

\---

The following morning, Arthur attempted to do as his father suggested, and spent time with Elena. He went on a ride with her, finding that she enjoyed beating him almost as much as Morgana did. 

Elena was sweet, and he commiserated with her about losing her mother, but there was no spark between them. All he could think about as they talked was a small green eyed girl who had lost her father, huddling in dark corners and forcing him to find her. He always found her, and wouldn’t leave until he saw her smile again. There had been a spark then, right from the start. But not with Elena, and he ached from the lack of it.

Eventually they made their way back to Camelot, the silence palpable and uncomfortable. They arrived in the square, and Arthur helped Elena down from her horse.

“Thank you for today,” Elena said politely.

Arthur nodded in return.

Elena threw her arms around Arthur’s middle and awkwardly hugged him, mumbling something about seeing him soon.

From up in the castle, Morgana watched the scene from her window. Normally she would’ve laughed at Arthur’s predicament, but she knew that there was something more going on, and the sight bothered her.

Arthur could feel the heat of Morgana’s stare on his back, and he looked up to her window almost instinctively. He caught her eye, his heart suddenly hammering. 

Morgana looked away, shutting her window.

\---

In honor of Lord Godwyn visiting, Uther held a grand feast to welcome their visitors. The banquet hall was lavishly decorated, and the kitchen had prepared an extensive array of dishes for the meal.

Arthur was seated next to Elena, as he had expected. Morgana sat on his right, sandwiching him between the two women. He was originally grateful to have Morgana there as a distraction from Elena, but Morgana wouldn’t meet his gaze.

Still annoyed with Arthur for his rude treatment of her earlier in the week, Morgana didn’t feel up to conversing with him. She occasionally talked to Elena, leaning over in front of Arthur as she did.

Morgana’s hair tickled Arthur’s face as she bent across his lap, one of her arms propped on his chair for support. That all too familiar scent of lavender wafted through the air, and he held his breath.

Morgana giggled about something and reached further over Arthur to rest her fingers on Elena’s wrist. “It’s great to have you here, Elena.”

Elena nodded a bit too vigorously, nearly spilling her drink. She let out a small noise of exclamation and grabbed at her glass to steady it.

Morgana pulled her hand back, her shoulder brushing against Arthur’s chest as she moved.

Once Elena was distracted from her conversation with Morgana, she went back to eating, shoveling food into her mouth. She lacked any proper table manners, and chewed with her mouth open, causing chunks of food to fall from her lips and onto her dress. Elena picked up the bits of food stuck in the neckline of her dress, popping them into her mouth.

Arthur groaned quietly, but Morgana heard it. She turned and glared at him, still hovering in his space. “Arthur,” she chastised, her voice a low hiss. “Must you be rude to every person you meet?”

Arthur couldn’t come up with a response, not while she was so close to him. He swallowed, managing a small noise of disagreement.

Morgana huffed and lowered herself back into her seat.

Running a hand over his face, Arthur sighed and tried to focus on his food.

A few minutes later, when Elena was struck by a bout of hiccups, Morgana elbowed Arthur in the ribs, cutting off anything he might say.

He shot her an exasperated look, rubbing at the spot where she hit him. “Morgana, I didn’t do anything,” he groaned.

Morgana shrugged, the hint of a smirk on her lips. “I know you too well, Arthur.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, but he knew she was right.

As everyone finished their meals, the music started to play louder, and several people got up to dance, swept up in the celebrations. Arthur kept looking nervously over at Elena, who seemed equally unenthused at the thought of dancing. While they had both drank enough wine to lower their inhibitions, they still had the sense to fear what would happen if Elena tried to dance. Arthur’s feet hurt just from thinking about it.

Morgana noticed Arthur’s contemplation over Princess Elena and blew out a puff of air, frustrated with his childish behavior. She got up from her seat, intending on leaving the banquet hall and escaping this ridiculous spectacle. As she crossed the hall, weaving through the dancing couples, she felt something catch her wrist. She stopped, turning to find Arthur standing there.

Arthur’s fingers were wrapped loosely around Morgana’s wrist, and he tried to guide her off the dance floor, but Morgana wouldn’t move. They stood in the midst of a sea of swirling skirts and billowing robes, letting the world spin on around them.

Eventually someone bumped into Morgana, knocking her off balance. Arthur’s free hand shot out, grabbing her waist to steady her. With one hand on her wrist and one on her waist, they looked the part of any dancing couple, though their feet were glued to the ground.

“I’m sorry for how I acted before,” Arthur stated, unable to stand the silence any longer.

Morgana cocked an eyebrow, looking unimpressed by his apology.

“Truly, I am, Morgana. I don’t know what came over me.” It was a lie, of course; he knew exactly why he had done it, because the sight of her made him go a bit insane.

Morgana’s eyebrow sank back down, her expression slightly less hostile. She moved into him, forcing him to step backwards. After a beat, she stepped carefully to the side, bringing him with her.

Arthur moved with her, softly murmuring, “My father wants me to marry Princess Elena.”

Morgana nodded, spinning on her heel and pulling Arthur along. She had heard the whisperings and wasn’t surprised at the news.

Letting out a long breath, Arthur shook his head, the weight of responsibility crushing him. He longed to drop his head against Morgana’s shoulder and collapse in her arms. His relaxed his hold on her hip, his hand moving to rest on her lower back, lazily tracing his fingers along her spine.

Morgana continued to step back and to the side, falling into the rhythm of the music without fully realizing it.

“I do not love her,” Arthur remarked, though it was hardly a shocking bit of information.

Morgana caught his gaze, and there was a look to his eyes that she couldn’t quite decipher. It tickled on the edge of her consciousness, and it bothered her that she couldn’t read his every thought anymore. Eventually, she replied, “I’m sorry.” Then, adding almost as an addendum, “I’m sure this is hard for Gwen, as well.”

“Gwen?” Arthur asked, confused. He stumbled over his own feet, suddenly aware that he had been dancing. They had moved so fluidly, he hadn’t even noticed.

Arthur’s jerky movements broke their pattern, and Morgana stopped moving. With a cheerfulness that she didn’t feel, she chirped, “I’m sure it will all work out.”

Arthur blinked once, twice, and let go of Morgana’s hand, letting her escape the circle of his arms.

In a show of sympathy, Morgana patted his arm gently. For some inexplicable reason, she found herself raising up on her toes and leaning towards him. Her lips had nearly reached his cheek when a loud clatter reverberated through the hall and startled her. A servant had dropped a tray, and Morgana’s eyes went over to the scene, her brain slowly remembering the presence of everyone else in the hall.

From her spot at the table, Elena watched as Morgana untangled herself from Arthur and left the hall.

\---

The next day, Morgana avoided everyone, choosing to stay in her room. It wasn’t that she disliked Elena or her father, but there was something that seemed off about the princess. The edges of her entire being almost rippled, and it hurt Morgana’s eyes to look at her for too long.

Besides that, there was the issue of Arthur. The idea of him marrying someone bothered her more than she let on, and she feared that she might say the wrong thing if she saw him. She knew that this wasn’t what he wanted, but he rarely defied his father. Unless she asked him to, of course; but that was before. She had no claim on him now, no right to ask him not to do this.

She sat on the edge of her bed, watching the flecks of dust swirl through the air as the light caught them. Arthur’s ring felt heavy against her chest, the weight threatening to suffocate her. It was foolish, but she wanted to run to his room and fling her arms around him, never to let him go.

Morgana never had been one to give in to her emotions, though, so she stayed where she was.

\---

That night, Uther requested to dine with Arthur, and by extension, Morgana. It was clear that he organized the meal as a way to discuss things with Arthur, and Morgana was only included as an afterthought.

Morgana begrudgingly accepted, allowing Gwen to pin up her hair and do her makeup so that she’d be presentable. She had planned on having a quiet meal in her room, but she no longer had that option.

She arrived late, and both Uther and Arthur were already there. Arthur stood up when she entered, awkwardly stumbling over his chair in an attempt to be chivalrous.

Morgana’s lips quirked up into a smile at Arthur’s actions. She sat down in her chair across the table from Arthur. As her eyes landed on Uther, her smile immediately vanished.

They ate most of their meal in silence, the sound of silverware scraping against plates the only noise in the room.

Eventually, Arthur spoke up, though his voice was quiet. “Father, there is something we should discuss.”

Morgana could tell from Arthur’s tone that something was troubling him, but Uther was oblivious to his son’s feelings, hearing only what he wanted to hear. Uther beamed, his voice loud and excited as he exclaimed, “Your proposal! Excellent.”

Morgana could see the muscles twitching in Arthur’s cheek, and longed to reach for his hand.

Uther was still rambling, and he offhandedly commented, “You should make a fuss, women like that sort of thing, don’t they, Morgana?”

Morgana visibly flinched, unsettled by Uther’s astounding ignorance of the people around him. She muttered, “I wouldn’t know.”

Arthur’s eyes cut over to Morgana, his brow furrowing.

Uther continued to prattle on about Elena and the proposal and how wonderful it would be.

Morgana could feel that Arthur was intently watching her, and she mumbled quietly, “Elena really is quite lovely.”

Hearing Morgana’s voice shook Arthur out of his silence, and he finally gained the courage to speak. “I’m sure she’s a wonderful person, but I have no feelings for her.” He shook his head, dropping his gaze to his plate. “I cannot marry someone I don’t love.”

Uther set down his goblet and replied darkly, “You can, and you will.”

The words struck Morgana like a blow to the gut, and she felt as though she was going to be sick. She rose from her seat, excusing herself for the night.

\---

Morgana barely slept that night, tossing and turning. For once it wasn’t prophetic dreams plaguing her sleep, but simple nightmares; mostly of Arthur, as usual. She awoke with his name on her lips and a thin sheen of sweat on her brow. Donning a cover, she took up her favorite spot by the window, counting the stars to pass the time.

She watched the sun rise over the city, the rays of light painting the sky a brilliant shade of red. As the sounds of the morning birds reached her ears, she stretched out her limbs and stood from the windowsill. She dressed herself, leaving her hair down in heavy ringlets. Once she was finished, she sat back by the window, watching the town come to life.

After another hour, Morgana could see Arthur and Merlin exiting the castle, and she found herself staring after Arthur, yet again. His hair looked mussed, and his mouth was drawn in a tight line. Even from her high vantage point, she could see the taut outline of the muscles in his back, and she knew he was tense.

There was a slight knock on the door, and Gwen entered, coming for her morning chores. Morgana immediately felt uncomfortable standing there watching Arthur, and she ducked away from the window.

Gwen took in Morgana’s appearance and smiled sadly at her. “Couldn’t sleep?” she asked, knowing the answer.

Morgana smiled in return, not bothering to respond.

Gwen set about making the bed and picking up the pieces of Morgana’s clothes that were strewn across the floor.

Morgana watched her maid for a moment, then took a breath and quietly said, “I’m sorry for everything that’s happening with Arthur. I know it can’t be easy.”

Gwen’s hands stilled, the linens hanging loosely from her fingers. She bit her lip, trying to find the right response. Releasing her lip, she breathed, “I’m fine, Morgana, really.”

“Gwen, if you’re hurting, it’s alright. You can tell me, I won’t mind.” Truthfully, she already felt like her stomach was riddled with knives, so she figured it wouldn’t hurt that much to add any more.

Guinevere shook her head, some of her unruly curls escaping the bun she had roughly tied up on her head. “Morgana, there’s something you should know.” She was tired of keeping things from Morgana. Arthur could lie to her all he wanted, but Gwen was done. On a rush of breath, she admitted, “Arthur and I… we called things off weeks ago.”

Morgana’s mouth fell open a fraction, her eyes widening from shock. Her throat felt dry, and her voice cracked as she asked, “Why?”

There were many reasons, but Gwen only provided, “We knew it could never be.” It was the truth, after all.

Forcing her head down into a nod, Morgana tried her best to look sympathetic, but it was difficult.

Gwen could tell that Morgana was relieved, but she knew that her relief was marred by the looming issue of Arthur’s potential marriage. “Morgana, you don’t need to worry.” Noticing the crinkle of confusion on Morgana’s brow, she added, “About Arthur and Elena.”

Morgana scoffed. “I’m not.”

Pursing her lips, Gwen gave Morgana a pointed look. She knew Morgana too well to buy that. As Morgana’s hard expression gave way into something softer, Gwen remarked, “Arthur always follows his heart. Perhaps not at first, but he’ll do the right thing.” Smiling, she added, “He learned it from you.”

Morgana shook her head in amusement, laughing under her breath. Gwen was sweet, but Morgana didn’t believe her. As much as she wished he wouldn’t, Arthur would do what his father asked of him.

But as Gwen left, Morgana strangely found herself leaving her room, searching after Arthur.

\---

After pacing the halls multiple times, Morgana finally stopped at Arthur’s door, despite her better judgment. She didn’t bother to knock; she simply waltzed in like she had done a hundred times before.

“Morgana,” Arthur exclaimed, surprised to see her. His whole body itched with the desire to walk up to her, but he moved over to the window instead.

She tried to smile at him, but she couldn’t manage the action. “Arthur,” she replied. She sat on the edge of his table, studying him in the sunlight.

For a while, they remained motionless, the room filled with a crushing silence. Arthur’s eyes kept flicking back at Morgana every few seconds, though he tried to focus on the window.

Morgana swallowed the lump in her throat and looked up at Arthur, even though he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Gwen told me the truth.” Her words broke like explosions in the still air.

Arthur stiffened, and he trained his eyes harder on the panes of glass.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Morgana asked, though she regretted the words as soon as she said them. It wasn’t really her business, she supposed.

Arthur didn’t have an answer for her. He tried to look at her, but his neck was too stiff, and his head wouldn’t turn.

When he didn’t respond, she had the sudden urge to scream, to tell him that she had heard him when she was dying; she knew, she _knew_ , but she held her tongue.

Eventually he sighed, the sound echoing off the walls. “It doesn’t matter now.”

Morgana nodded, accepting the truth in his words. Trying to rectify the awkward situation, she quipped, “You know, I always thought that if Uther was to marry one of us off, it’d be me.” 

Her comment brought no levity though, and Arthur continued to stare.

She let out a slow breath, wishing she could say something to fix this.

Arthur slowly turned to face her. He leaned heavy against the window, counting the breaths that Morgana took, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. Quietly, he murmured, “Did you ever think it would be…”

Before he could finish, Morgana laughed, the noise a hollow and broken sound. “Of course I did, Arthur.” There was no use in denying it now.

He shook his head, wanting to laugh along with her. He remembered that day before everything went wrong, when he had dreamed of asking Morgana to marry him. That had been so very long ago. “How can I marry someone I don’t love?” he asked, his tone bordering on pleading.

Morgana’s first thought was to tell him that he shouldn’t do it—but she bit down on the inside of her cheek. She would let him do this on his own. “Sometimes love isn’t enough, Arthur. There are more important things.” 

It was clear from the look on his face that he was torn. He nodded numbly, but his head was pounding.

The ring that Arthur had given her was burning at her throat, and Morgana reached back and unclasped the chain from around her neck. She let it drop into her hand, closing her fingers around it. Standing from the table, she moved towards him and held out her hand. “Here.”

Arthur looked confused, so Morgana grabbed his wrist and forced the ring into his hand.

“Uther knows nothing of women,” she told him, referring to the ridiculous ideas that his father had about the proposal. “Something simple and heartfelt is all she will need. Give her your mother’s ring, and she will accept your proposal with all that she has.”

Arthur blinked at her, the ring feeling cold against his palm. “Morgana,” he tried, but she was already leaving, closing the door behind her as she went.

\---

The next day Arthur called for a gathering in the throne room, asking specifically for Elena’s presence. Everyone knew what it was for, and Morgana swallowed the bile that rose in her throat upon hearing about it.

Everyone poured into the hall, taking their places. Morgana stood with Gwen, and Arthur waited in the center for Elena’s arrival.

Elena walked in with her father, trying her best to remain elegant and poised as she moved.

Arthur took Elena by the hands as she reached the front, and he got down on one knee. He gave her a speech about wanting what was best for Camelot, and then hesitantly asked, “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” The words caught in his throat, but he managed.

Morgana watched from over Elena’s shoulder, forcing out a smile as she heard Elena accept. She could feel Gwen’s comforting presence at her side, and she held it together.

Arthur only once looked behind Elena to meet Morgana’s gaze. It was only once, but he could still see the light catching her eyes, and for a moment, he thought he saw them glimmer with the wetness of tears.

\---

After a tumultuous evening, during which Morgana had to avoid gushing, brain-addled maids who were enthralled by Arthur’s proposal, and sad-eyed court members who had hoped for Camelot’s ward to someday be Arthur’s queen, Morgana finally got some respite in her room. Guinevere undid Morgana’s hair, removing the pins and jewels, and then helped her into her nightclothes. Once she finished, she bid Morgana goodnight and left for her home.

Feeling exhausted, Morgana fell asleep almost immediately. The day’s events had been overwhelming, and she needed sleep to escape her constant stream of unpleasant thoughts.

Not long after she had drifted off, she could feel something pricking at her mind. There was a soft familiar hum, and even in her sleeping state, she recognized it. Morgana sprung up in bed, awakened by the call of magic. There was a powerful being in the castle, she could sense it.

Her curiosity got the better of her, and she slipped out of bed, intent on finding the source. There was a distinct trail of magic, and she could discern where it was heading. Picking up her skirts, she ran to Gaius’s chambers, throwing open Merlin’s door and waking him as soon as she arrived. 

“Merlin!” Morgana yelled, too focused on getting his attention to be worried about being polite.

Before Merlin could comment on her rude awakening, a small ball of blue light entered the room. The creature eclipsed in the light sent a bolt of lightning at Merlin, causing him to fall out of bed.

Morgana recognized the creature as one of the Sidhe, the guardians of Avalon. For a moment she was almost excited to see one up close, but she quickly regained her sense of urgency. Raising a hand, she muttered a spell and sent the Sidhe creature hurtling backwards. She hadn’t harmed it in any way, but it was the only spell she could think of that would help.

Using the distraction to his benefit, Merlin reached under a floorboard and pulled out a long wooden staff. It was created from Sidhe magic, and he knew that it could be used to kill them.

Morgana tried her spell again, but the creature evaded her attacks. Thankfully, Merlin came to her rescue, wielding his staff.

Merlin fired several bolts from the staff, effectively destroying most of Gaius’s belongings in his attempts to kill the creature. Finally, he managed to hit the Sidhe creature, causing it to explode into little pieces.

As the dust settled, Morgana demanded, “What is going on?”

Merlin smiled sheepishly at her. “It’s a long story.”

Gaius and Merlin sat Morgana down and explained everything that had happened. They had discovered that Princess Elena was a changeling, which meant that she had been possessed by a Sidhe for her whole life, and would eventually lose herself entirely to the creature. It was all part of some elaborate plot to gain control of Camelot, which was not an unusual occurrence, and Morgana rolled her eyes when she heard it.

“So what do we do?” Morgana asked.

Merlin answered, “We have to get the Sidhe out of Elena. Gaius has a potion, but we have to figure out a way to get her to take it.”

“Her maidservant, Grunhilda, is a pixie, and she won’t be too keen on us thwarting the Sidhe’s plans,” Gaius added.

Morgana nodded slowly, coming up with a plan. If she could get Elena alone, there wouldn’t be a problem. Looking back and forth between Gaius and Merlin, she said, “I need you two to distract Grunhilda. I’m sure you can think of a way, Gaius.”

Gaius blushed with embarrassment.

Morgana’s lips turned up into a sly smile. “Let me deal with the Princess.”

\---

The following day was the day of the wedding, not that Morgana was focusing on that. It was easier to distract herself with the problems of others, so she threw herself into trying to save Elena. 

Gaius and Merlin had worked out a plan to trap Grunhilda. Gaius was the bait, and Merlin would be there for reinforcement. That left Morgana to give Elena the potion, which was easy in theory, but once the creature was forced out of Elena’s body, it could potentially be dangerous. She hoped that she’d be able to ward off the Sidhe long enough for Merlin to arrive and kill it.

Once the boys had successfully distracted Grunhilda, Morgana slipped past and knocked on the door of Elena’s chambers.

Elena opened the door, looking flushed. Her hair was in a state of disarray, and her expression was frantic. “Lady Morgana,” she greeted. “What are you doing here?”

Morgana smiled brightly. “I thought you might need a friend today. I know this must be stressful.”

Elena let out a long sigh and practically dragged Morgana into the room. “Oh, thank you. I’m such a mess; I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Morgana led Elena over to the bed and sat her down. “Here, let me help you.” She grabbed a hair brush and started working on the knots in Elena’s hair. She counted the minutes in her head, biding her time until Merlin would be close.

Sighing again, Elena bemoaned, “I can’t believe it’s my wedding day.”

For a second, Morgana lost her control of the brush, and it caught in the tangles, causing Elena to yelp. She muttered an apology and steadied her hands. As she brushed, she found herself saying, “Arthur is a good man. No matter how he may come across at times, I truly think he will make an excellent husband. I know he’ll make you happy.” The words burned on her tongue, though they were completely true.

“Yes, I know, but I don’t love him. And I know he doesn’t love me.”

Morgana breathed slowly in and out, calming her nerves. She set down the brush and took a seat beside Elena on the bed. She pulled the potion out of her pocket, clutching it in her fingers. “You’re just nervous.” She held out the potion to Elena. “Here, take this. It’ll make you feel better.”

Elena ignored the offer, not even bothering to glance at the bottle. She continued with her lament, “His heart belongs to someone else.”

“Elena…” Morgana tried, but there was nothing she could say.

Elena looked over at Morgana, and almost insightfully asked, “Is it right to marry a man who so clearly longs for another?”

Before Morgana could answer, the door flew open, and Merlin came barreling into the room. Without a word, he ran over and grabbed the potion from Morgana’s fingers. Tilting Elena’s head back, he poured the potion down her throat.

Elena fell back on the bed, writhing around as the potion took effect. Suddenly, she let out a scream, and the Sidhe was expelled from her body.

Merlin immediately raised his staff and fired, killing the creature.

Elena slowly sat up, a bemused expression on her face.

“Elena? Are you alright?” Morgana asked.

Grinning widely, Elena stood from the bed, proclaiming, “I feel amazing! I haven’t felt this good in years.”

Morgana and Merlin exchanged pleased looks with one another as Elena spun around in little circles.

Letting out a small gasp, Elena cried, “I have to get ready for my wedding!” She started searching around her room for things she would need, seemingly ignorant of Morgana and Merlin’s continued presence.

While Elena was distracted, Merlin looked to Morgana, seeing the pain behind her eyes as she watched Elena flit around. He quietly asked, “What are you going to do?”

With a sad smile, Morgana replied, “There’s nothing for me to do, Merlin.”

Merlin left the girls alone after that, allowing Morgana to help Elena prepare for the big event.

\---

Arthur stood outside the Great Hall, feeling miserable. Inside the hall, people were all gathering for his wedding, chattering happily about how wonderful it was. He had never felt more uncomfortable in his life. He felt like a liar; he was planning on proclaiming his everlasting faithfulness to one woman in there, when he knew perfectly well that his heart had already strayed.

Merlin entered the room quietly behind Arthur. He handed Arthur his ceremonial sword, feeling just as displeased about this as the prince was. Arthur didn’t hide his misery well, and Merlin could see it plainly on his face. Out of courtesy, he asked Arthur, “What’s wrong?”

Arthur shook his head. “It’s just… it’s absolutely unbearable at times, knowing that I have this destiny that I can’t escape.”

Merlin chuckled darkly under his breath. “Destinies are troublesome things.” He knew that better than anyone.

Arthur felt as though his head might explode. He wanted to do what his father wished of him, but in the back of his mind, he kept hearing this voice, telling him to do what he thought was right, and to _damn the consequences._ Letting out a sigh, he turned to face Merlin. “Do you think I should marry her?”

“It’s not my decision to make.”

“Merlin,” Arthur implored. “Please.”

“If you want the truth…” He stared straight at Arthur. “I think you’re being an idiot, as usual. You love Morgana, but you won’t tell her, and now you’re marrying someone just because your father tells you, and honestly, I think you’re just going to miserable for the rest of your life.” Slowing his rant, he continued in a softer tone. “You have a choice, Arthur. This is not the only path, and I think you know that.”

The doors opened behind Arthur, and he knew it was time. He walked down the aisle, watching out of the corner of his eye as Morgana and Gwen bowed as he passed.

Morgana refused to look at Arthur, and she bit down on her cheek until the coppery taste of blood ran over her tongue. Elena came walking in soon after Arthur, and she looked absolutely beautiful. Morgana tried to smile, but her cheeks hurt too much to move.

Elena took her place next to Arthur, and Arthur took her hands in his.

As Geoffrey of Monmouth started the ceremony, Morgana could feel the pressure of magic burning behind her eyes, as though something inside her was rebelling against this. She shut her eyes tightly and pushed it down, finding Gwen’s hand at her side and grabbing it for support.

When Arthur was asked if it was his wish to be united with Elena, he looked back at Morgana for a brief moment, hoping for some kind of sign, but she wouldn’t meet his eye.

Geoffrey of Monmouth addressed the crowd, asking if anyone had a reason to contest the union. Morgana swayed on her feet, but she could feel Gwen squeezing her hand tightly and she kept quiet.

When the hall remained crushingly silent at the question, Arthur came to a realization. He had been hoping for someone else to stop this, someone to tell him what to decide, but that was ridiculous. He wasn’t a child anymore, and he had to make his own decisions. To hell with tradition. “Wait,” he called out, interrupting the ceremony.

Geoffrey looked confused, and he asked, “Is there something you’d like to say, Arthur?”

“Something I should’ve said a long time ago,” he muttered. He looked out into the crowd, his eyes falling on Morgana. “I cannot deny my feelings.”

Morgana swallowed, allowing herself to look back at Arthur.

Arthur turned to Elena, continuing his speech. “Elena, you are a wonderful woman, but there is another who holds my heart. I cannot marry you; it wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

Elena smiled knowingly. “I understand.”

Gwen grinned brightly, tugging at Morgana’s fingers. Morgana turned to her friend and breathed a sigh of relief, the corners of her lips turning up in a proud smile.

\---

Lord Godwyn and Princess Elena left for home the next day. The Princess was infinitely happier and more graceful than she had been when she arrived, and for that everyone was glad.

Uther, however, was furious, and made no attempts to hide it. He had reamed Arthur out after the failed wedding ceremony, ranting about how disappointed he was. Thankfully, Arthur felt sure of his decision, and he had stood up to his father, explaining that he would be a better king for having a woman he loved beside him.

While Uther tempered his fury in front of his guests, he still was displeased at the situation. Arthur had mentioned that his heart belonged to another and Uther was suspicious. 

As Morgana bid Lord Godwyn and Elena farewell, she could feel the heat of someone’s gaze and noticed Uther eyeing her angrily. Ignoring him, she turned away. He may dislike her, but he had nothing to accuse her of, not yet.

\---

After Lord Godwyn and his party left, Morgana made her way back to her chambers on her own, since Gwen was off doing chores. As she walked, she heard someone close behind her, and she turned to see Arthur shadowing her, as he had a tendency to do. She stopped and smiled at him. “Arthur. Is there something you wanted to say to me?”

Arthur laughed; he should’ve known she’d catch him. “I wanted to give you something, actually.” He reached into his pocket and grabbed something from inside. Lifting his hand, he produced his ring, still on her chain. He had never given it to Elena; he had simply kept it in his pocket for days.

Morgana shook her head in amusement.

“I believe this belongs to you,” Arthur stated, handing her the ring.

Playfully, Morgana said on a sigh, “I just can’t seem to get rid of it, can I?” It was obvious she was joking from the hint of a smile on her lips, despite her attempts to stay serious.

Arthur let his fingers linger over her palm, tracing the cool metal of the ring resting there. “Maybe you should stop trying.”

Smirking up at him, she quipped, “Where’s the fun in that?” She turned on her heel, attempting to leave.

“Morgana—”Arthur grabbed her wrist, spinning her back towards him. He pulled a little too hard, and she continued to spin until she nearly collided with his chest. She was closer than he had expected, and could feel the warmth of her breath on his neck. 

Her eyes were sparkling with surprise from the force of his pull, and she smiled up at him.

Arthur could feel her chest brushing against his with every breath she took, and he found himself mesmerized by the rhythm, as he had been so many times before. Without fully recognizing what he was doing, he started to lean forward, bending his head down towards her.

Morgana felt the butterfly touch of his lips on hers, her eyes fluttering closed for half a second. Before it could become something deeper, though, she pulled back, grinning at him. She took a few steps backwards, watching his face. She clasped the chain around her neck as she moved, murmuring, “Thank you, Arthur.” Then with a smile, she was gone.


	7. The Castle of Fyrien

Arthur trudged back to his chambers, feeling particularly exhausted after a rather grueling council session with his father. He had hoped to rest after eating dinner, but his father had pulled him aside to discuss issues in the kingdom, and it had gone on for quite a while. The sun had long since sunk beneath the horizon, and most of the castle was empty, with everyone retiring for the night.

When he entered his room, he was fully prepared to sink into his bed, but he caught sight of something interesting that made him stop. There was a chair pulled up by the window, and in it, was a person; or more accurately, a bundle of limbs all wrapped up in a silk dress and a thin blanket. As his eyes trailed up along the lines of twisted legs and arms where they were tucked into the chair, his gaze fell on long strands of dark hair falling haphazardly out of a bun and covering a petite porcelain face. Eyes closed shut and features relaxed, Morgana looked quite peaceful, if not a bit uncomfortable in the hard chair. 

Arthur studied her face for a moment, smiling as he saw the way her lashes laid prettily on her cheeks as she slept. It was common for her to come to his chambers now; they had gotten back into a fairly familiar routine of spending more than a fair amount of every day with one another. She had most likely come to talk to him and fell asleep while waiting for him, and he felt a twinge of guilt, though it wasn’t entirely his fault. His father was on some sort of mission lately, and though he didn’t share everything with Arthur, he still wanted his son’s military advice on certain subjects. It made Arthur wary that his father was being secretive, but he hadn’t pushed the matter.

Morgana twitched in her sleep and the small movement shook Arthur out of his thoughts. He looked down at her and found himself swept up in the way the soft light from the candles cast shadows on her skin. He knew that he couldn’t stand there forever, but it was nice to stare for once without her being aware. It was late, and he hated to wake her when she looked so peaceful. It was rare for her to sleep through the night, and he didn’t want to be the cause of another restless night. His eyes flicked to his bed, and for a brief moment, he considered letting her stay with him. His entire being ached with the thought of having her that close again, but he knew better.

Realizing that his only other option was to get her to her own bed, he crept across the room as quietly as he could manage. He reached down and gently maneuvered her legs, slipping his hand under her knees. Bending forward, he set one of her arms over his shoulder and tucked his own arm around her back. In one slow motion, he stood up to his full height, lifting her with him. The blanket fell away, and her head fell against his chest.

Morgana stirred and then settled in against him, unconsciously nuzzling her face against the small area of Arthur’s skin left exposed by the opening in his shirt. Arthur gripped her tightly and started to walk with her in his arms. He left his room and started down the hall towards Morgana’s room. A guard saw them pass and made a face, but Arthur simply nodded and wished the man a good evening.

When he reached Morgana’s door, he carefully held her up with one arm as he reached down to turn the knob. The door swung open and he entered the room, padding over to Morgana’s bed. Using one hand to cradle her head, Arthur laid Morgana down on top of the sheets, carefully removing his arms from under her body as he let her go.

A rustling sound echoed through the quiet room, and Arthur looked up, finding Guinevere at the foot of the bed with a candle. “Guinevere,” he greeted, whispering her name.

Gwen looked from Arthur to Morgana’s sleeping form and smiled. In hushed tones, she replied, “I wasn’t sure I’d see her again tonight. She seemed so determined to see you.”

Arthur’s face lit up at Gwen’s words, the hint of a smile blooming on his lips.

“Thank you for bringing her here.” Gwen moved over to the bed and removed Morgana’s shoes.

Arthur put on a show, stretching out his hand and bowing jokingly. “Anything for my lady.”

Gwen stifled a chuckle for Morgana’s sake. Walking over to the chest by the bed, she pulled out a blanket and laid it over Morgana.

Arthur stared down at Morgana, watching as Guinevere took the pins out of her hair. As the curls tumbled out of their bonds, Arthur brushed them away from Morgana’s cheek, unable to stop himself.

Gwen saw the movement out of the corner of her eye and smiled.

Recognizing that he wasn’t alone, Arthur pulled his hand away from Morgana’s face. Backing up from the bed, he cleared his throat and quietly mumbled, “I should take my leave.” 

Gwen noticed Arthur hovering by the foot of the bed, hesitating, and she whispered, “I’ll take care of her, Arthur.”

Color flared up in the apples of his cheeks, and he nodded. “Good night, Guinevere.” He walked out of the door, slowly closing it behind him. He turned and watched Morgana disappear through the ever dwindling sliver of light until the door latched, only then forcing his feet to move.

After Arthur left, Gwen finished prepping Morgana for bed, managing as well as she could without waking her mistress. It was getting late, and she had to suppress several yawns as she worked. Finally, she headed home to her own bed for the night, feeling secure that Morgana would rest well.

Wrapping her shawl around her shoulders, Gwen left Morgana’s chambers through the servant’s entrance and took the stairs down to the courtyard. She took the path to the lower town that led to her house. It was dark, and she walked with a hurried pace, eager to get inside.

As Gwen entered her house, she could sense that something was wrong. Before she had the chance to react, a man stepped out of the shadows, coming towards her. Reaching for the nearest object to use a weapon, Gwen’s fingers grasped the fire poker, and she raised it like a sword, prepared to attack. She backed up, her eyes frantically scanning the room, looking for an easy escape route. However, before she could choose a course of action, she felt a pair of strong arms grab her from behind. A second man had a hold of her, and he placed a thin scrap of cotton across Gwen’s mouth as she struggled. With no choice but to breathe through the material, Gwen inhaled the strong aroma of chemicals, and soon everything went dark.

\---

The next morning, Morgana woke up late, the streaming sun through her window shining through her closed eyelids. She sat up slowly, looking down at herself in wonderment. She was still in her dress from the previous day, though someone had let her hair down and covered her with a blanket.

It was surprising that Gwen hadn’t come in yet, since she was usually so prompt when arriving for work. Though, Morgana mused, Gwen probably had quite a late night, what with taking care of her, it seemed. She put aside her worry, assuming that Gwen would arrive in a few hours.

Morgana went about her morning routines on her own, getting dressed and doing her makeup. She brushed out her hair, leaving it down, since she lacked the patience Guinevere had when it came to pinning up her curls.

She went down and got breakfast from the cook, and then took a long walk around the gardens. By the time she returned to her room, the sun had passed over to the western sky. It had been hours, and still Gwen had not shown up to do her chores. Morgana worried her bottom lip between her teeth, fearing for Gwen. Usually if the girl was sick, she would have sent a note, at least.

Eventually, Morgana grew anxious, and decided to go check on Gwen herself. As she walked through the corridors, she passed Arthur, and his eyes followed her. Morgana was on a mission, and she didn’t even notice him.

Arthur frowned slightly, but didn’t make a scene, as he was accompanied by several of his knights.

After walking through town for several minutes, Morgana came upon Gwen’s house and knocked on the door. “Gwen?”

When she received no response, she tried the doorknob, finding the door unlocked. She let herself into the house, discovering that it was empty. She searched around the small space, but there was no sign of Guinevere. While some things looked out of place, there was nothing extremely alarming that Morgana could see. Perhaps Gwen had gone out for the day, and had forgotten to mention it. Sighing to herself, Morgana went back to the castle, feeling disheartened.

\---

After waiting a whole day, hoping for Gwen to turn up on her own, Morgana was nearly at the point of going to Arthur and Merlin for their help. She was concerned that something terrible must have happened. As she slipped on her boots and grabbed a cloak, she heard the slight creak of her door opening. Turning, she saw Gwen standing there, holding a bin of laundry. Morgana gasped, calling out, “Gwen!”

Gwen looked over at Morgana, but didn’t smile.

Morgana ran to her maidservant, throwing her arms around the slightly smaller girl. “Where have you been? I was so worried about you!”

“I’m fine, Morgana. It was nothing,” Gwen mumbled, her voice holding the hints of a well-covered tremor. She pulled out of Morgana’s arms and set the laundry basket down on a table.

Morgana raised an eyebrow in suspicion. “You don’t sound fine. I went to your house and you were gone. Did something happen?”

Gwen shook her head vigorously, trying to hold back her tears.

Reaching her arm out, Morgana tried to take Gwen’s hands in her own, but Gwen snatched them back before Morgana could get a good grip. Frowning, Morgana implored, “You know you can tell me anything, Gwen.”

Gwen was tugging at the bottoms of her sleeves, and Morgana’s eyes were drawn to the motion. The girl was hiding something. Morgana quickly grabbed at Gwen’s wrist, trying to see what she was covering. Gwen let out a hiss of pain, and Morgana immediately let go, her eyes widening. There was no hiding the dark red marks marring Gwen’s skin, even though Gwen tried her best.

“Morgana…” Gwen started.

“Who did this to you?” Morgana demanded, her eyes narrowing in anger. The thought of someone hurting her friend made her furious.

Shaking her head, Gwen mumbled, “No one.”

“Don’t mistake me for Arthur, Gwen; I’m not nearly as thick,” Morgana warned with a smirk on her lips. “I know something happened.”

Gwen finally broke, a sob erupting from her chest. “Oh, Morgana, I don’t know what to do,” she cried. “It’s Elyan, he’s in trouble.”

Morgana vaguely remembered Elyan from when they were children. He was Gwen’s brother and had grown up here, but he had left Camelot many years ago.

“He’s been captured by King Cenred,” Gwen continued. “And they won’t release him unless I give them Arthur in exchange.”

Puzzled, Morgana questioned, “But why would Cenred—” She paused as a realization occurred to her. While Cenred did desperately want to take over Camelot and kill Arthur, it seemed odd that he would use Gwen as his means of bargaining. Unless… unless he knew how much Arthur cared for Guinevere. There was only one person that could have told him, outside of herself and Merlin. Morgana took a steadying breath, trying not to betray her tumultuous emotions. Gwen was still staring at her, so Morgana amended, “Cenred must have taken a gamble, capturing a previous citizen of Camelot with hopes that Arthur would rescue them.”

Gwen nodded, though it was clear from her eyes that she didn’t entirely accept Morgana’s claims.

Morgana smiled. “Don’t fret, Gwen, everything will be fine. I’m going to fix it.” 

“But what about Arthur?” Gwen asked.

“Leave Arthur out of this for now. Promise me.” If Arthur got involved, things would become infinitely more complicated, and Morgana couldn’t have that.

Gwen smiled hesitantly, agreeing with Morgana’s plan.

\---

As night fell, Morgana rode out through the forest, using magic to quicken her journey. She arrived at the lake she knew so well, and tied up her horse. Getting in the small boat, she allowed the mists to guide her to the Isle. As she pulled up on the shores, she immediately called out for her sister. “Morgause!”

The blonde witch appeared out of the mist and walked up to Morgana. “Sister. I thought you had decided to stay in Camelot permanently; what has brought you here?”

“I needed to see you. Cenred has launched a plan to kill Arthur and take over Camelot.”

Morgause made a quiet humming noise in her throat. “That does sound quite like him. The man is so impetuous.”

Reluctantly, Morgana asked, “Sister, I must know, are you a part of this plot?” Morgana noticed her sister’s eyes darken, but she didn’t stop, “Cenred has taken Gwen’s brother, and you were the only one who knew of his existence, and of Arthur’s feelings for Gwen.”

If Morgause had been less of a lady, she would’ve rolled her eyes. “Really, Morgana, you believe I would involve myself with this ill-conceived attempt on the Prince’s life? I have nothing to do with Cenred’s plans.”

“Then how—”

Morgause cut Morgana off, already knowing the question. “While I may not support everything he does, he is an ally for our cause. I gave him information, but nothing more.”

Morgana nodded, swallowing down her frustration. “Please, you must help me stop him. If you went to him, he’d listen; he’d release Elyan, I’m sure of it.”

Waving a hand through the air, Morgause dismissed her sister’s pleas. “I cannot help you, sister. Though I have no stake in Cenred’s plan, I will not destroy our alliance over this, over a serving girl’s brother.”

“He means to kill Arthur,” Morgana stated, as if that simple statement held the weight to sway the world in her favor.

“That will only come to pass if Arthur is foolish enough to trade himself. Keep the prince away from Cenred and you have nothing to fear. Arthur is safe within Camelot’s walls.”

Morgana clenched her fists in anger. She knew that Morgause would not be convinced to help, not once she had made her decision. Nodding curtly out of respect for her sibling, Morgana turned and started for the boat.

“Morgana?” Morgause called. “Please, be careful.” Morgause knew that her younger sister was bound to make some kind of reckless decision, and she could only hope that Morgana wouldn’t be harmed in the process. Cenred should know better than to hurt a relative of a high priestess, but still, she worried.

A small smile grew on Morgana’s lips, some of her anger fading. She nodded again before climbing into the boat and heading home.

\---

Unfortunately, despite Gwen’s promise to keep quiet, Arthur still managed to find out about what had happened. Merlin and his nosy tendencies had figured it out, and unsurprisingly, told Arthur about it.

Arthur had summoned Gwen to his chambers, and along with Merlin’s help, hatched a plan to save Gwen’s brother. Gwen had reservations, but Arthur and his overconfident nature won out in the end. He was convinced that they could sneak in and rescue Elyan without Cenred even knowing they were there.

Gwen immediately went to Morgana after seeing Arthur and told her everything, apologizing profusely all the while.

Morgana knew that it wasn’t Gwen’s fault, but she was aggravated nonetheless. There was absolutely no chance that Arthur wouldn’t insist on sacrificing himself if necessary; the man was just infuriatingly noble that way. She’d be damned if she let him die though, so she sought him out, hoping that there was a small chance he’d listen to her.

Arthur wasn’t in his chambers, so Morgana went searching for him. After walking in circles for a long while, she asked some servants, who pointed her in the right direction. She found Arthur in the armory, where he was probably gathering weapons for the rescue attempt he was planning. “Arthur,” she called, causing him to fumble and drop the sword in his hands.

“Morgana! What are you doing down here?” he cried, still flustered.

She shrugged, trying to appear disinterested, though inside she was a flurry of nerves. “Looking for you. I heard about what you’re planning.”

Arthur smiled sheepishly, ducking his head. “Of course, I should’ve known you’d find a way to get involved.”

Morgana had to hold in a scoff. It was astounding that there he was, preparing for a mission that would likely get him killed, and yet he was still trying to protect her. “You know that this is reckless, don’t you? It’s clearly a trap.”

Picking up the sword he had dropped, he swung the weapon around in his hands. “Which is precisely why I’m not going to get caught.”

“Arthur,” Morgana huffed. “You can’t guarantee that.”

Arthur smirked. “Come now, Morgana, I’ve been through worse than this. It’ll be fine.”

“Cenred wants to kill you, and you’re practically offering yourself over to him. Sounds like a perfect plan.” She knew Cenred may not be the smartest, but where he lacked intelligence, he made up for it in ruthlessness.

He chuckled, “You’re worried about me.”

Arthur was still playing with his sword, and Morgana snatched it away and threw it backwards, letting it clatter to the floor behind her. Leaning over the weapons rack, she snapped, “Of course I’m worried.” The playful atmosphere was long gone, and Arthur’s movements stilled, his eyes intently locked with Morgana’s. She couldn’t help but feel responsible for this whole situation. If she hadn’t complained to her sister about Arthur and Gwen, then Cenred never would’ve known to take Elyan. It was her fault.

Arthur looked down to where Morgana’s hands were braced against the edge of the rack, and he placed one of his hands over top hers. “Morgana, I’m coming back, I promise.”

She kept her eyes focused on Arthur’s face, though she could feel the warmth of his palm on her knuckles. Straightening her back, she stood, setting her shoulders. “You’re right. You are,” she remarked, her voice calm and ringing with certainty. “Because I’m coming with you.”

Shaking his head, Arthur sighed. “Of course you are.”

\---

The next day, Arthur made up an excuse to his father for where he’d be heading, and had Merlin ready four horses. He still wasn’t comfortable with Morgana coming, or Guinevere for that matter, but there was no convincing them to stay behind.

Gwen and Morgana came out of the castle, both in riding gear. Morgana was wearing tailored armor and breeches, with her hair in a single braid down her back. Arthur only lost his breath for a few agonizing seconds before he remembered to inhale the air into his lungs. When Morgana smiled over at him, he turned away and started taking note of all the supplies they were taking with them as a way to occupy his thoughts.

Once everything was ready, the four mounted their horses and started on their journey. Arthur took the front position, with Morgana close behind him. Merlin lingered near Morgana, leaving Gwen to take up the rear.

As they rode, Morgana noticed Merlin riding unnecessarily close to her. He kept giving her looks, and it made Morgana uncomfortable. He seemed suspicious, as though he knew that this was somehow her fault. It only served to darken Morgana’s mood, and she kicked her horse sharply, picking up the pace.

The silence of the ride wore on Arthur, and he began to prattle on about various topics. Gwen and Merlin joined in his conversations, but Morgana was quiet.

Gwen started to ask about the woods, worried about the presence of bandits. She hadn’t often journeyed this far out of Camelot, and it was disconcerting.

Arthur commented, “Well, if anything happens, I think I can count on Morgana to watch my back.” He glanced over at Morgana, grinning cheekily. “You probably already do that, anyways,” he joked, hoping to get a rise out of Morgana. 

Instead of exploding and calling Arthur a multitude of names, Morgana kept silent, staring ahead at the path. She was distant, wrapped up in her head.

Arthur frowned; Morgana’s behavior was troubling him. Trying to make light of the situation, he called out, “I guess I’ll have to resort to having Merlin watch my back.”

Merlin snorted. “I’d rather not, sire.”

Gwen giggled at that, which made Merlin laugh as well, but as Arthur looked over at Morgana, he found her expression unchanged.

\---

After riding for several hours, they stopped to make camp before the sun went down. Morgana offered to get firewood, but Arthur stopped her, asking Merlin to do it instead.

Gwen made herself busy by collecting ingredients to flavor their stew, leaving Arthur and Morgana alone with the horses.

Arthur went up to Morgana and took her by the arm, pulling her away from the horses. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

Morgana was trapped by his hand on her arm, and she knew she had to come up with an excuse. She faked a smile, muttering, “I’m fine, Arthur.”

Arthur squeezed her arm harder, pulling her closer to him. “Something is bothering you, I can tell.”

Morgana shook her head. She couldn’t tell him about the guilt that she felt, not without letting him know about her plotting in the past with her sister. She had tried to destroy his kingdom, and she couldn’t tell him that. “Really, Arthur, don’t worry about it.”

“Morgana,” he murmured in a harsh whisper.

He still hadn’t let go of her arm, so Morgana told him the closest thing to the truth. “I’m still a little worried, that’s all. But I’ll be fine.”

Arthur scanned her face; he knew she was worried, but there was something more, he felt it. “Morgana, is there—”

Desperate for him to stop prying, Morgana moved closer until the length of her body was pressed up against him. She tilted her head and rose up on her toes, settling her mouth over his and kissing him forcefully to get him to be quiet. The kiss was quick, but it lasted long enough for Arthur’s fingers to relax on her arm, and Morgana knew she had succeeded. She pulled back, chirping, “See? Fine.”

Arthur was too dumbstruck to argue her point, and he nodded mutely.

Morgana slipped her arm out of his grasp and smiled at him before walking away, heading off to help Gwen.

\---

As the sun sunk below the trees, the group all sat down around the fire, eating their supper. Gwen kept playing with her fingers, clearly anxious, and Morgana set her hand on Gwen’s shoulder, trying to comfort her friend.

During their meal, Arthur started to explain his strategy to rescue Elyan. Cenred was using the Castle of Fyrien as his stronghold, since it was an impenetrable fortress. However, Arthur knew of a secret passage that would allow them to get into the castle unnoticed. If they went along by the sea, they would find the hidden tunnels and be able to sneak in and get Elyan.

Hearing Arthur’s plan lifted Morgana’s spirits marginally. If they had the element of surprise, perhaps this mission wouldn’t be a total disaster after all.

Once the sun had disappeared and the air grew cold, they all made their beds for the night. Arthur positioned himself so he had a good view of Morgana from where he lay. Her kiss earlier had made him forget his worry for a moment, but he could tell that there was something upsetting her, and he wanted to make sure he could watch over her as she slept, just in case she needed him. 

Merlin also kept an eye on Morgana, though his motives were not the same as Arthur’s.

Morgana ignored both sets of eyes on her, snuggling down into her makeshift bed and shutting her eyes.

\---

As the sun rose, Gwen gently shook Morgana awake. The boys were both up, and had already packed their things. Morgana’s movements were sluggish, but she started to put away her belongings, tucking them back into the pouches of the saddle bags on her horse. As she packed, she heard someone come up behind her, and she turned to find Merlin standing there.

Merlin was studying Morgana carefully, as though he were trying to decide something. Eventually, he spoke. “It’s strange, isn’t it, how Cenred chose Gwen’s brother, of all people, to kidnap.”

Morgana looked back over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes. She didn’t appreciate the insinuation. “I don’t claim to know the inner workings of the power crazed mind of a king.”

“It just seems a bit ironic, that he’d unknowingly pick the relative of the servant with whom Arthur was closest.”

Morgana finished tucking a dagger into her belt and turned on her heel, facing Merlin. “Jealous that Cenred didn’t capture your family instead?” she snapped. “Arthur cares for a lot of people, in case you haven’t noticed.”

The boy’s face darkened for a brief moment, but it was gone as soon as it came. “I just wonder how Cenred could’ve known, that’s all.”

Morgana lifted an eyebrow. “Are you implying something, Merlin?”

Merlin shook his head. “No, of course not.”

“Good,” Morgana bit, “Wouldn’t want you jumping to wrong conclusions.” With a flip of her braid, she went back to readying her horse, ignoring the heated glare on her back.

\---

They all set off riding towards the Castle of Fyrien, the journey a mostly silent one. It was nearly dusk when they arrived at the coast, the tall towers of the castle rising up out of the rocks above them.

Finding a safe, hidden area, they tied up their horses and walked along the beach, staying close to the rocky cliff base. Gwen nearly slipped, but Arthur’s hand shot out and steadied her, helping her along the narrow pathway.

As they found the entrance to the tunnels, Morgana hesitated, and Merlin bumped into her back.

“Something wrong?” Merlin asked.

Morgana shook her head. Arthur turned back and caught her eye, smiling at her, and she swallowed the lump in her throat, pushing forward.

They entered the dark tunnels, finding them covered in age’s worth of dust and cobwebs. There were skeletons littering the ground, along with discarded weapons and shields, left over from the fight with Caerleon years prior.

Arthur found a few stray torches and lit two of them, handing one to Merlin. They trudged on through the tunnels, Arthur leading the way.

Morgana stayed close behind Arthur, her hands twitching. She kept one on the hilt of her sword, prepared for an attack. After walking a bit farther, she could see a door outlined in the faint light ahead of them. 

Arthur walked up to the door, which turned out to be more of a gate, one that led to the lower levels of the castle. Arthur kicked the door open, resulting in a loud clanging sound.

Morgana cringed at the sound, but they continued to follow the path without interruption. They left their torches in the tunnels, not wanting to attract attention. As they moved along in the bowels of the castle, the light grew brighter, and they knew they were headed in the right direction.

As they came upon an actual door, Merlin sighed in relief, ready to be out of the tunnels. Pushing past Gwen, Merlin moved up to the door, grabbing the knob.

Once Arthur noticed Merlin’s actions, he let out a low hiss, calling out the servant’s name, but it was too late. Merlin turned the knob, opening the door.

The door opened, and with it, a series of objects came crashing down, creating a loud clatter that reverberated off the walls.

As Arthur had expected, Cenred was paranoid, and he had booby-trapped any entrances into the castle. It was only a matter of time before someone heard them. Arthur shoved Gwen in front of him and grabbed Morgana by the wrist, tugging her behind him as he yelled, “Run!”

Merlin stared for a moment at his mess and then quickly followed the trio, jumping over the debris and running through the halls of the castle.

Arthur’s mind was moving a mile a minute, struggling to formulate a new plan. If he could only find the dungeons before someone caught them, then maybe he could free Elyan and get everyone out safely. However, his attempts to think of a plan were cut short as the flickers of shadows appeared on the walls in front of them. He pulled on Morgana’s wrist and grabbed at Guinevere’s shirt, slowing their progress. Arthur pushed both girls behind him, trying to protect them. He released Morgana and drew his sword as the shadows grew larger. There was no other way to go; he would have to fight.

Morgana handed Gwen her dagger and then drew her own sword. Merlin didn’t have a weapon, but Morgana doubted he needed one.

The shadows started to lose their shape as they climbed up the ceiling. Soon, a swarm of guards rounded the corner, headed straight for Arthur. As soon as they noticed what was in front of them, the guards drew their weapons and attacked.

Arthur and Morgana fought back, parrying the blows delivered by the guards. Gwen stabbed at the men when they got close enough, but she mostly tried to stay out of dodge. Merlin fought with his bare hands, using magic when he could manage without Arthur noticing. For a brief moment, Arthur thought they might be winning, but then he heard Guinevere’s scream.

One of the guards had Gwen trapped, a knife to her throat. She had dropped Morgana’s dagger on the floor and couldn’t defend herself.

Morgana dove forward, grabbing for the dagger, but before she could get to Gwen, she too was overpowered by the guards.

With both girls in danger, Arthur had no choice but to surrender. He and Merlin reluctantly allowed the guards to take them prisoner as well.

The guards gruffly maneuvered their hostages down the hall to the throne room, bringing the four to their king. Morgana struggled, desperately wanting to tear the men apart. Their grip on her arms was starting to become quite painful, but she refused to give them the satisfaction of letting it show.

As they entered the throne room, the guards arranged them in a line, shoving each of them to their knees. They started first with Arthur, followed by Morgana, Gwen, and Merlin. Morgana huffed as her knees hit the ground, and she turned and sneered at the men behind her. Being manhandled was definitely not high on her list of favorite things.

In the front of the room, Cenred sat on his throne, his legs crossed. His signature double swords were tucked away behind his back, and he wore a devilish smirk on his lips. “Arthur Pendragon, right on schedule. You truly are too valiant for your own good, my friend.”

Arthur jerked violently against the men holding him, his expression livid. Next to him, Morgana could feel the vibrations of his movements through the floor.

“And you’ve brought friends, how sweet,” Cenred remarked as he scanned over the three others. His eyes fell on Morgana and he grinned widely. “Ah, the Lady Morgana. I’ve heard so much about you.” The statement was heavy with pointed undertones, and Morgana scowled.

As Cenred rose from his seat, Gwen looked over at Morgana with a panicked expression. Morgana tried to smile reassuringly at the girl, but she couldn’t manage it.

Cenred walked up to Morgana, placing a hand under her chin and tilting her face up so he could look at her. “You’re even more beautiful than they say,” he murmured darkly.

Upon seeing Cenred lay a hand on Morgana, Arthur thrashed against the men holding him, furiously trying to break free so he could tear Cenred’s arm clean off his body. “Don’t touch her,” he fumed.

Cenred chuckled, enjoying Arthur’s frustration. Keeping an eye on the prince, he gripped Morgana’s chin tightly in his hand, just to prove that he could. 

Arthur tried to lunge forward, but the hold on his arms kept him in place.

As Cenred laughed again, Morgana could feel his breath on her face, and she flinched, despite her attempts to stay strong.

Watching Arthur squirm lost its appeal quickly, however, and Cenred grew bored. Letting go of Morgana, Cenred walked back to his throne, settling down in it. He waved a hand at his guards. “Take them away.” A pensive look crossed his face, and he added, “But leave the Lady Morgana here with me.”

As the guards yanked Arthur to his feet, he fought them, screaming, “I’m the one you want! Leave her out of this!”

Cenred smiled wickedly. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Merlin and Gwen were taken out first, and Gwen shot Morgana a worried look before she was pulled away. Arthur was still fighting to stay; he kept kicking out his legs and throwing his head back, trying to hurt his captors.

The guards continued to drag Arthur out of the hall, despite his constant struggle to stay with Morgana. “Don’t you touch her!” Arthur bellowed. 

Morgana squirmed in the guards’ grip; seeing Arthur this way was terrible, and she wanted to run to him. She wasn’t afraid of Cenred, but she knew that it would kill Arthur to be locked away, unable to protect her.

As the doors began to close, Arthur grew even more frantic. “Morgana!” He locked eyes with her, watching until the guards pulled her out of his sight. “MORGANA!”

The doors shut, and the guards tugged harshly on Arthur’s arms, forcing him to be cooperative. They walked down a narrow passageway and until they reached the dungeons, where they stopped. Arthur and Merlin were tossed into one cell, and Gwen was thrown in another, the guards locking the doors behind them.

As Gwen landed on the hard ground, she took in her surroundings, finding that her brother was in the cell with her. “Elyan,” she murmured.

Elyan moved over to his sister, kneeling down and taking her into his arms, hugging her. Gwen was nearly on the brink of tears, and Elyan smoothed her hair down, whispering, “It’s going to be alright.”

Gwen didn’t know why, but she almost believed him.

\---

After her friends had been taken away, Morgana was left only with Cenred and his brutish guards. Two men remained behind Morgana, firmly grasping her arms. Scowling venomously at Cenred, she snapped, “What do you want with me?”

Still seated on his throne, Cenred nodded over to his men, signaling for them to release Morgana.

As the men released her, Morgana stepped forward quickly, eager to be free. She rubbed at her upper arms, trying to relieve the soreness there from being contorted uncomfortably.

Cenred rose elegantly from his throne, coming down to stand a few feet away from Morgana. “What I want, Lady Morgana, is for your assistance.” He noticed Morgana’s withering stare, but it didn’t faze him. “Your sister has told me of your endeavors to bring Camelot down, and I figured we could be of use to each other.”

Morgana scoffed at his proposition. “Go to hell.”

Blowing out a low whistling breath, Cenred commented, “Feisty, I like that. But still, my offer stands. I can bring an end to the Pendragons, ushering in a new era.”

Rolling her eyes, Morgana remarked snarkily, “Don’t be so pretentious, Cenred. You want Camelot for yourself; you care nothing for the plight of the people.” She saw right through him; he was greedy and cowardly, desperate for a strong kingdom to protect and pamper him. “Even if the destruction of Camelot was my goal, I would never work with you. You may have my sister fooled, but I see you for what you really are. _Nothing_ ,” she spat.

Cenred raised his hand, prepared to slap Morgana, but he stilled his movements before he made contact. Steeling his features, he warned, “You may come to regret that, my lady.”

\---

In the dungeons, Arthur was pacing around the cell, and it was making Merlin dizzy. “Arthur, would you stop that? Unless your plan is to dig a hole in the floor, it’s not going to help.”

Arthur glared at his companion. “Like you’re so full of helpful ideas.” Throwing his arms up, Arthur ranted, “Cenred could be torturing Morgana right now, and we’re stuck in this stupid—” He kicked the cot in the corner, flipping it over as he yelled, “—cell!”

“I’m sure she’s alright, Arthur.” Merlin still had a nagging feeling that Morgana was behind all this somehow.

Ignoring Merlin, Arthur started studying the cell, checking for anything he could use. “We have to find a way out of here.” His eyes landed on a grate in the ceiling, and he smiled, coming up with a plan.

\---

In Gwen’s cell, there was an awkward silence between the two siblings. Gwen was angry that Elyan had abandoned her and had gone for four years without a word. He claimed that he never felt it was the right time to reach out, but Gwen didn’t buy it. Their father had died, and still Elyan didn’t contact her. It hurt to think that her own brother didn’t care enough to come back and help her.

Elyan sat next to his sister, and finally broke the silence. “I’m sorry, Gwen. I haven’t been much help, have I?”

Gwen shook her head and smiled over at him, unable to stay too mad at her big brother.

While Gwen and Elyan had their moment, down the hall, Arthur and Merlin were breaking out of their cell. Gwen could hear several loud thumps, and the sound of fighting, and she stood up from her sitting position on the floor.

After a few more minutes, the cell door swung open, revealing Arthur and Merlin. Gwen beamed at them, thrilled to be rescued. Quickly and quietly, Arthur ushered Gwen and Elyan out of the cell, leading them down the hall.

Once they were close to the entrance to the tunnels, Arthur turned to Merlin and ordered, “Get Gwen and Elyan out of here.”

“Arthur…” Merlin started.

“I’ll find Morgana and meet you by the horses.” There was no way Arthur would leave without Morgana, no matter how dangerous it was. He turned and left the others, heading in the opposite direction, towards the throne room.

\---

The warning bells started going off, and Morgana began to smile, knowing what they meant.

Cenred heard the sound as well and frowned, getting up from his chair and looking at the door.

“It seems that Arthur has escaped. I guess you’re not as formidable as you thought,” Morgana quipped.

Cenred was furious, but he still had one last card to play. “He may have escaped the cells, but he will not escape me.” Turning to Morgana, he grinned. “He will come for you, and I will be waiting.” 

Morgana’s eyes shot over to the door, a cold fear rushing through her blood. She knew that Cenred was right; Arthur would always come for her.

Removing his swords from their sheaths, Cenred advanced on Morgana. “It seems like you’ll be of use to me, after all.” With his swords still in his hands, he grabbed Morgana’s arm, spinning her so she was facing away from him. Before she could try to resist, Cenred yanked her backwards, leaving her back flush with his chest. Placing one sword at her throat, he held the other out in front of him, awaiting Arthur’s arrival.

As expected, within a few minutes, Arthur burst through the double doors, his sword held high. Upon seeing Morgana with a sword to her neck, his movements stilled and something like fear passed over his eyes. 

Morgana tried to stay strong, but she could feel the blade biting into her neck, and she winced involuntarily.

The slight noise of pain that Morgana made reached Arthur’s ears, and he nearly growled in anger. “Let her go, Cenred. This is between you and me.”

“I don’t think so.” Cenred knew good leverage when he saw it, and he refused to yield. Noticing Arthur’s progression towards him, he held out one of his swords, threatening, “Take one more step and she dies.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed irately, but he did as Cenred asked.

“Put down the sword, and she gets to live,” Cenred bargained.

The muscles in Arthur’s arm twitched, and he considered it for a second, if only because of the trickle of blood he saw dripping down Morgana’s throat. He knew better than to trust Cenred though, and he held strong.

“I said put down your sword!” Cenred pushed the blade further into Morgana’s neck as he yelled.

Despite his rage, Arthur found some amusement in the situation and smirked at his opponent. “Why don’t you let her go and face me like a man?”

Cenred made no attempts to release Morgana, and Arthur’s smirk vanished.

Darkly, Arthur spoke, “If you harm her, I will gladly take you apart, piece by piece.”

Shaking his head, Cenred looked down at the girl trapped in his arms. “All this fuss over you, Morgana,” Cenred sneered. “I suppose he doesn’t know all the dirty little things you’ve done.”

“Shut up,” Morgana hissed.

“He could’ve escaped, yet he came back for you. How foolish of him.” Cenred turned to Arthur, hoping to bait him into doing something stupid. “The lady here is a traitor, did you know? She helped me lay siege to your kingdom.”

“You’re lying,” Arthur ground out, his teeth clenched.

“Tell him, Morgana,” Cenred murmured in her ear. “Tell him how you orchestrated a war on his kingdom. How you plotted to kill the king.” As he spoke, Morgana flinched in his arms.

Arthur shook his head. “I knew you were a coward, Cenred, but this is low even for you.”

Cocking his head, Cenred inquired, “How else do you explain your father’s bout of insanity? Or that I knew exactly who to kidnap to get your attention?” 

Morgana snapped at him, “Stop it.” 

“It was her,” Cenred finished.

Arthur took in the information, contemplating it. Cenred’s words stung, and he knew that they could possibly be true, but he refused to believe a word that came out of that coward’s mouth.

The blade slid further up Morgana’s neck, cutting into her skin, and she cried out. The sound jolted Arthur out of his thoughts and he started to move forward, rounding on Cenred.

“You played your part well, Morgana,” Cenred cooed, as though he was impressed. “The snake in Camelot’s garden. You wanted Camelot’s downfall just as much as I.”

Morgana struggled in his arms, the warmth of her own blood running down her skin. “You’re wrong.”

Glancing back up at Arthur, Cenred mused, “I wonder, if I kill him now, would you care?”

Something in Morgana snapped at that question, and she could no longer bear standing still in that monster’s grip. With a yell, she elbowed Cenred in the chest, twisting in his arms.

Arthur took the opening and attacked Cenred, trying to avoid hitting Morgana as he launched forward with his sword. 

Morgana ducked under Arthur’s sword, attempting to move out of the line of fire. As she spun away, she felt a sharp pain in her right side, and she stumbled.

Violently swinging his sword, Arthur fought Cenred with a fury he didn’t quite understand. He just knew he wanted to rip the man apart. Even though Cenred had two swords, he was no match for Arthur and his expert sword fighting skills. Arthur knocked away one of the swords, slicing at Cenred’s wrist. Without one of his weapons, Cenred was off balance, and he wasn’t able to block Arthur’s attacks as well. Arthur found an opening and thrust his sword forward. Just before he could make the killing blow, he heard a faint cry from behind him, and he faltered. 

Morgana was doubled over in pain, clutching at her side. There was a slice in her mail, and she could feel the jagged edges of a wound in her skin.

Arthur looked over his shoulder at Morgana and knew that she needed him. Though he desperately wanted to dispatch Cenred, he couldn’t leave Morgana. Using the butt of his sword, he slammed it into Cenred’s face, rendering him unconscious.

Cenred dropped to the floor, and Arthur ran over to Morgana. He could see the blood seeping through her fingers from where she was holding her ribs. She had been sliced by one of Cenred’s swords.

Morgana grabbed at Arthur’s shoulder with her free hand, steadying herself. Now that she was losing blood from both her neck and her side, she felt faint. “Arthur,” she murmured, trying to explain herself.

Arthur didn’t let her finish; he looped one of her arms over his shoulder and started running, bearing most of her weight. They made it out of the throne room and down the hall, finally reaching the door that would lead them to safety. 

Once they were in the tunnels, the dizziness became too much, and Morgana nearly fell. Arthur bent over and slipped his arm under her knees. He picked her up and carried her for the rest of the journey, since she was nearly at the point of passing out.

As they passed over the ridge outside the tunnel, Arthur could see three people and four horses ahead of him.

Gwen ran up to meet them, her happy expression at seeing them fading as she noticed Morgana’s condition. “Morgana,” Gwen called. She came up to the pair, placing her hand on Morgana’s forehead and brushing back the stray pieces of hair from her braid.

Arthur clutched Morgana tighter, moving back from Gwen. “We have to keep going,” Arthur explained. They didn’t have time to tend to Morgana now; they had to get far away from the castle before Cenred’s men caught up with them. 

Gwen nodded and went over to her horse. She instructed Elyan to take Morgana’s horse, since she wouldn’t be able to ride on her own. Arthur handed Morgana over to Merlin temporarily.

Merlin looked highly uncomfortable at holding a woman in his arms. His eyes fell on the blood stains on Morgana’s chest and he felt a surge of guilt for thinking that she had been responsible for Elyan’s capture.

Arthur normally would make a joke about Merlin dropping Morgana, but his mind was too preoccupied. He holstered his sword in the sheath on the saddle and mounted his horse.

Merlin lifted Morgana up, ignoring his straining muscles. With Arthur’s help, he placed Morgana up on the front of the saddle. Arthur situated Morgana so she was resting against him, and he clutched her tightly around the waist.

Once Morgana was safely in Arthur’s arms, Merlin got on his horse, and the group started to ride, traveling away from the castle. They rode for almost an hour, until Arthur was sure they were far enough that Cenred wouldn’t follow them. He found a safe place in the woods and they stopped there to camp.

Gwen immediately tended to Morgana, bandaging her wound with scraps of fabric that she ripped from Arthur’s shirt. The boys collected wood, made a fire, and cooked some carrots and some meat in a stew. Morgana was barely conscious, but Gwen helped her to drink some water and eat a few bites of stew.

Though Morgana was stable, she needed rest, so they settled in and stayed for the night. Everyone was exhausted, and most of the group fell asleep instantly. Arthur, however, stayed up, the thrum of adrenaline still rushing through his veins. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Cenred had said about Morgana. The words were playing over and over in his head, until he ached from the thought of them. They couldn’t be true; he trusted Morgana, she wouldn’t do that. But a nagging voice in his mind kept reminding him of the things his father had done, and how much Morgana loathed the king, and he knew that it was possible. 

Arthur stared at the flickering embers of the fire into the late hours, telling himself that everything was going to be fine. 

\---

In the dim light of the sunrise, Morgana woke up, finding Arthur at her side, watching over her. The pain in her side had dulled to a faint ache, and she felt much better. Now that she was coherent, she scanned her surroundings, finding Gwen, Merlin, and Elyan still asleep around her. The fire had completely died away, leaving a pile of ash a few feet from her bed.

Arthur looked troubled, the dark circles under his eyes stark against his skin. As Morgana looked up at him, he found he could hold it in no longer, and he asked, “Was any of it true?”

Morgana knew what he was asking of her, and she couldn’t find the words. She sat up halfway, resting on her elbows.

“Just tell me he was lying,” Arthur pleaded. “Tell me that Cenred made it all up, and I’ll believe you.”

Morgana ducked her head, her silence conveying volumes.

Arthur swallowed roughly. “Please.” He didn’t even care if she lied to him; he needed to hear her say it.

“I can’t.” She looked up at his face, holding back the tears that pricked at her eyes.

He had known, but the confirmation was like a blade in his heart all the same. It felt like all the air had been choked off from his lungs, and Arthur had to walk away, desperately trying to breathe again.

Morgana moved her arms and dropped down onto her back, letting out a sigh as she stared up at the sky.

\---

The ride back to Camelot was tense and quiet. Morgana was forced to sit in front of Arthur, listening to his breathing for almost an entire day. He never spoke to her, and except for where their bodies met in the saddle, he never touched her. It reminded Morgana of the day he had found her in the woods and brought her back to Camelot. She had betrayed his trust, yet again, and he was clearly hurt, so he responded by shutting her out.

When they reached Camelot, Arthur stormed off into the castle, eager to escape Morgana. Morgana wanted to chase him, but Gwen corralled her and convinced her to see Gaius first.

Merlin offered to help Elyan to find a place to stay now that he was remaining in Camelot, which made Gwen smile. She was relieved to have her brother home again.

Morgana left her friends and went to see the physician. Gaius tended to her wounds and dismissed her to her chambers, where Morgana stripped out of her armor and took a hot bath. She took her time brushing out her hair and getting dressed, giving Arthur at least an hour to cool down. She needed to see him, and when the wait became unbearable, Morgana slipped on her shoes and walked to Arthur’s chambers. She knew he didn’t want to be near her, but she went anyway. She strode into his room without knocking, since he’d only turn her away if she did.

Arthur heard the door open and didn’t even bother to look up from the papers on his table. “Get out, Morgana.”

“No,” Morgana retorted. “Hate me if you wish, but you should know the whole story.”

Dragging a hand over his face, he replied tiredly, “Hundreds of people, good people, lost their lives in that battle. The battle you allowed to happen.”

“I know.” She exhaled slowly. “There’s nothing I can say that will erase what I’ve done. But I did try to stop it, you saw, I fought by your side—”

Arthur lifted his head, his eyes flickering with resentment. “You betrayed me.”

“I made a mistake, Arthur,” she admitted. “I was angry, and scared. I thought that eliminating Uther would satisfy me. I didn’t realize how wrong I was until it was too late.”

“I knew you hated my father, but this—” He took in a shaky breath. “Did you want my death as well?”

Her reply was immediate, “Never.”

Arthur locked eyes with her, studying the swirling emotions in the depths of green. He could always tell when she was lying, but she wasn’t now.

Morgana held his gaze. “Even in my darkest hour, I never could bear the thought of losing you.”

Arthur rose from the table and walked over to her, shaking his head. He was so damn weak, he couldn’t bear losing her either.

The apology hung limply on her tongue, but she couldn’t say it out loud. It didn’t matter, he knew, he had to know.

Arthur watched her, his anger ebbing away as he stared at her face. Lunging forward, he grasped the sides of her head, fisting his hands in her hair and drawing her close. Their faces were almost touching, and he murmured, “God, why do you do this to me?”

She shook slightly from the force of his pull, her bottom lip trembling.

A ragged sigh escaped his chest, and he admitted brokenly, “I can’t stop loving you.” He bowed his head, his gaze focused on the floor as he fell forward so his forehead rested against hers. “I can’t stop.” He kept repeating the words under his breath like a mantra.

“Arthur,” she whispered.

Hearing his name roll off her tongue broke something inside him, and he leaned in and captured her mouth in a searing kiss. Using his hold on her hair, he hauled her up to meet him, pressing their bodies together. 

Morgana lost her breath, the gasp swallowed down by Arthur’s mouth. Once the shock wore off, she threw her arms around him, clinging to him as he was to her. Her mouth was pliant under his, and he devoured her with heated movements of his lips and tongue. The force of his kiss made her see stars, and she gripped his shoulders, digging her fingers into his skin.

As he continued to suck greedily at her lips, he forced her backwards, pushing her up against the cold stone of the wall. The soft humming noises in her throat were stirring his already frenzied brain to the point of madness, and he kissed her harder.

Arthur’s hands slid down over her body, tracing her form under his palms, and Morgana squeezed his shoulders in response. He moved his hands over her torso, gripping at her ribcage as he pulled her impossibly closer. In his haze, he forgot about her injuries, not recognizing his mistake until she hissed against his lips.

Morgana pulled back, dragging her teeth along the inside of Arthur’s bottom lip as she released his mouth.

Arthur fumbled about, feeling awkward. He attempted to move away, but Morgana’s hands slipped down to his wrists, holding him in place.

Leaning forward, Morgana whispered brokenly against his lips, “I can’t stop either.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, the room filled with the hushed sounds of their breathing.

She gradually let go of his hands, and Arthur stepped back to give her space. Morgana stepped to the side and opened the door, and with one last look, she left.


	8. The Eye of the Phoenix

After discovering Morgana’s betrayal, it took Arthur several weeks to process the information, his heart torn in several directions. He wanted to be angry, to make Morgana feel the same pain he felt when he found out, but it wasn’t working like he planned. He was finding that it was immensely difficult to stay angry at Morgana when he was so ridiculously in love with her. It was especially trying when she would wear his favorite dresses or pin her hair up in messy buns, with tendrils of hair falling out and tickling the base of her neck. It made his fingers itch to touch her—to trace the veins under her skin, to get tangled in her curls—and his anger would be lost in the back of his mind.

Morgana would constantly hover in his space, leaning too close to whisper something in his ear, intimately brushing her fingers along his collar; all of it leaving his head in a lavender-scented fog. He was fairly certain that Morgana knew exactly what she was doing, too. She told him that she wanted to make it all up to him, that she would do anything to fix things between them. Of course, that only resulted in him kissing her again—which he really needed to stop doing, it was seriously distracting. He had yet to forgive her though, and the more he held off, the worse Morgana’s teasing became.

After dinner one night, she swept past him, her hand trailing across his arm and leaving a trail of goose-bumps on his skin as she smiled at him. Arthur’s eyes rolled back, and he cursed low under his breath.

As Morgana knew he would, he followed her out into the hall, trailing on her heels. She stopped and spun to face him, nearly causing him to crash into her. She smirked at him. “Yes, Arthur?”

He clenched and unclenched his jaw, swallowing roughly. “This has to stop.”

Moving closer, Morgana lifted her hand, settling it over his collarbone. “What?” she asked, drawing her bottom lip into her mouth and releasing it slowly before smiling coquettishly at him. 

Arthur grabbed at the hand she had laid on his chest, squeezing her fingers tightly. “You know what.”

Morgana grinned, stepping closer to him. She tipped her chin up, staring into his eyes. “Do I?”

Her breath tickled his throat as she talked, and he gulped, suppressing a shudder. “Morgana,” he warned, his voice heavy.

She lifted up on her toes, leaning her weight against his body for support. On an exhale, she brushed her lips over his, breathing into him.

The feather light touch of her mouth sliding over his made him throw his arm out and roughly take hold of her waist, though he didn’t push her away.

Morgana tipped her head to the side, tinkling laughter passing through her lips. “Really, Arthur, you’re too easy.”

A rumbling noise that sounded faintly like a growl reverberated through Arthur’s chest.

Morgana pursed her lips, cocking her head as she studied his ever-darkening eyes. “I’ll try to stop if you quit ignoring me.”

“Try?” he asked, the word sticking on his tongue.

With a vicious grin, she rose up again and caught his bottom lip between her teeth, pulling it into her mouth as she kissed him hungrily. She ran her hand up his chest, sliding it over the back of his shoulders and resting it there, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. As she released him from her teeth, she soothed the bite marks with her tongue and stepped back, letting him breathe. “I can only do so much.”

Arthur sighed. “Are you going to do this every time I’m mad at you?”

Shrugging, she quipped, “As far as punishments go, I think this one is fairly lenient.”

His hand twitched where it was resting against her waist, his fingers splaying across her hipbone. “You don’t fight fair,” he grumbled. “I had every reason to be upset, and you know it.”

With her cocky attitude waning, she nodded slowly, averting her eyes from his gaze. “I suppose you did.” She truly did feel terrible about hurting him, but she couldn’t stand it when he ignored her, especially now, after going for so long without him. It brought out the childish side of her.

Arthur started rubbing small circles on her side with his fingers. “But anger aside, I think I understand things now. I may not agree with it, but you were trying to do what you thought was right. Sometimes we make the wrong choices; I know that better than most.”

Morgana looked up at him, her eyes shining brightly. “Does this mean you forgive me?”

The hand he had on her hip moved up to her back, pulling her closer. “It means I love you,” he murmured. “And no matter what idiotic stunts you pull, that’s never going to change.” With a smirk, he added, “Not even if I wanted it to.”

Morgana tried to shove at him, but he held her tightly in his arms, leaning down to kiss her gently. As he broke the kiss, Morgana remembered that they were standing in the middle of the hall. Whispering against the skin of his cheek, Morgana asked, “Why don’t you come to my chambers for a while?”

Arthur smiled at her across the close space, wishing he could say yes. “I can’t. I have to decide upon my quest, remember?”

Morgana nodded, her nose brushing along his jaw as she moved. She hummed thoughtfully, commenting, “For once you’ll be the one staying up all night because of visions in your head.”

He chuckled, dropping his hands from where they held her body.

As they moved apart, Morgana asked, “Do you want me to wait with you?”

Arthur shook his head. “I’ll be fine.” He took another step back, tipping his head at her.

Smiling at him, Morgana let him go. She knew that visions were tricky things, and the one burden that she wouldn’t wish on anyone. This was a bit different than her dreams, and she understood how important it was to Arthur; yet still, it made her queasy to think of images invading his mind like they did hers. 

Knowing that Arthur would be awake under her feet, Morgana stayed awake as well, staring at the ceiling in her room as the night passed.

\---

After an entire night of kneeling in the throne room, Arthur was woken from his trance by his father. As he stood up from the floor, he announced that his quest would be to journey to the realm of the Fisher King, and to retrieve the king’s trident.

Uther was pleased by the announcement, but as news traveled, Morgana soon found out, and she was worried. Arthur’s journey would require him to cross the Perilous Lands, and she knew how treacherous they could be. The land wasn’t named for naught; many knights had journeyed there, never to return.

Morgana spent her day with Gwen in the market, picking out silks and gossamer fabrics for a new dress instead of dwelling on Arthur’s quest. He was busy the whole day preparing, and she knew he wouldn’t appreciate her fussing over him. She had found it was extremely easy to distract him if she truly wanted to; all it took was a flip of her hair, or a little half smile directed his way, and he’d quickly forget what he was doing. But this was important to him, so she gave him space for the day.

Gwen dragged Morgana through the town, both girls giggling and wrapping themselves up in swaths of fabric to amuse one another. 

“How about this one?” Gwen asked as she wrapped a length of gauzy salmon colored fabric around her shoulders.

Morgana hummed, before replying, “It’s not quite my color. It looks great on you though, you should get it.”

Gwen blushed, sliding the cloth across her neck to remove it. “My lady, what would I do with it?”

“Use it for a dress, of course. You should be allowed to wear nice things from time to time, Gwen.”

Laughing self-consciously, Gwen set the fabric back down on the cart from which she had gotten it. “I have no use for fancy dresses; they aren’t exactly fitting for servants.”

Morgana waved her hand to show she disagreed. “Nonsense. You still have a life outside of being my servant, don’t you? What about when you want to impress a man?”

“Morgana—”

Morgana continued, “Not that you need fancy dresses to intrigue men; I’ve seen the way some of the knights look at you. And clearly you caught Arthur’s attention well enough.” She playfully smirked at her friend, narrowing her eyes pointedly.

Gwen shook her head, but there was a clear smile on her lips.

Shrugging, Morgana let Gwen lead her away from the cart, leaving the fabric. As they walked away, Morgana chirped, “I suppose you could always borrow one of my dresses anyways.”

The sound of Gwen’s bright laughter echoed through the market as they left.

\---

As the moon rose in the sky, Morgana found that she no longer had anything to distract her from thinking about Arthur and his quest. Gwen had left for the night, and Morgana was in bed, trying to sleep, but it wasn’t working. She threw off the covers and got out of bed. Without bothering to put on something more than her nightgown, she slipped out into the hall and started walking to Arthur’s room.

When she reached her destination, she opened the door slowly, holding onto the edge of the wood and leaning forward, peering inside. The light from several candles flickered on the walls, and she knew Arthur was awake. She opened the door further, revealing him at the table, pouring over several maps and other papers.

He didn’t seem to register that she was there at first, so Morgana entered the room quietly, shutting the door behind her. Creeping up behind him, Morgana set her hands on his shoulders and leaned over to whisper in his ear, “Hard at work?”

Arthur flinched only slightly, Morgana’s presence was more comforting than startling. He reached up and rubbed his thumb along the back of one of her hands. “Preparing,” he mumbled. “All these maps say something different; it’s difficult to plan properly.”

“Want some help?” Morgana asked, leaning forward to look over his shoulder at the maps. He hadn’t been lying, there were at least five contradicting maps that she could see. “I could probably cast a locator spell to guide the way for you,” she offered.

Arthur chuckled, the vibrations of the action shaking through Morgana’s fingers. “As much as I’d like that, I’m afraid I have to decline. I’m supposed to do this quest alone.”

Morgana pouted. “Fine.” She tilted her head and lightly planted a kiss on the hollow of his cheek before standing up straight and stepping away from him, removing her hands from his shoulders. She moved around the corner of the table and sat in the chair at the end. After she was settled, she grabbed one of the maps and a quill, and then pulled the well of ink towards her. Studying the map for a moment, she set to work on fixing it. The places where the map looked incorrect, she marked over it with ink from the quill.

Arthur heard the scratching of the quill and looked up at her, an amused expression on his face. “Morgana.”

She continued to cross out portions of the map and redraw some of the landmarks, ignoring him.

“Morgana,” he echoed, slightly louder this time. “You really don’t understand the concept of me doing this alone, do you?”

The quill dropped from her fingers and she frowned at him. “These maps are atrocious; I was only trying to help.”

He laughed, shaking his head at her. “You don’t know the way to the Dark Tower any more than I do; you’re just scribbling.”

Huffing, Morgana shoved the map away. It was frustrating to worry about him and know that there was nothing she could do to help.

Reading her emotions, Arthur’s lips quirked up into a smile. “You’re worried about me.”

She chewed on her lip, not bothering to deny his claim. “This isn’t an ordinary mission, Arthur. What you’re planning to do has been attempted by other men, and no one has ever succeeded.”

“Yes, but they’re not me,” Arthur responded.

Morgana’s face dropped. “Arthur…”

“You don’t think I can do it?” he asked. He sounded hurt by the thought.

Morgana sighed. “I have every faith in you, Arthur. But the legends…” She had heard the tale of the Fisher King; there were rumors that he still lived to this day, his land cursed with the same dark magic that sustained him. The land itself had become a carnivorous creature, swallowing up men who would wander through.

As expected, Arthur wasn’t concerned. “The legends aren’t true, Morgana. They’re just stories.”

“But if they are true—” She reached out, taking his hand. “Magic like that, it’s dangerous.”

His demeanor softened, and he tried to comfort her, squeezing her hand. “I know, Morgana. I’ll be careful.”

“Sometimes I don’t think you know the meaning of the word,” she quipped.

He laughed, releasing her hand. “Perhaps. But I’ll be fine, Morgana. I can do this on my own.” He smiled at her before pulling the map she had taken back towards him.

As she took her hand back, Morgana stared down at her lap, watching her fingers twitch as she twisted them together nervously. She and Arthur had only just gotten back to a semi-normal relationship, and now he was going off on a potentially suicidal mission. It made her furious at this ridiculous ritual.

At Morgana’s silence, Arthur went back to his planning. Shuffling the papers on the table, Arthur looked over them with a grim expression. Letting out a breath, he started to work again, mapping out a route to take.

Sensing that he was trying to focus, Morgana stood up from the table. “I get it; you have to do this alone. I’ll leave you to your work.”

Arthur jumped up from the table, leaving the maps as he hurried to stop her. Catching her by the arm, he implored, “Wait. Stay.”

Morgana turned into him, smiling. “I thought I couldn’t help.”

He shook his head. “Just—be here with me. For a little while.” He was always better when she was with him; stronger, braver, capable of anything. “Please.”

She cupped his cheek with her hand, using it to pull him closer. Once he was near enough, she brushed her nose against his, leaning in and languorously kissing him for a moment. “Alright,” she murmured against his lips, “I’ll stay.”

Arthur went back to the table and his maps, and Morgana went over to the bed, curling up like a cat on top of the bedcovers. She propped her head up on her arm, watching him as he worked. After a while, her eyelids grew heavy, the calming sound of Arthur’s breathing lulling her into peaceful state. Her arm eventually slipped, her head coming to rest on the mattress as she fell asleep.

Arthur heard the sound of her arm hitting the bed, and he paused in his work. Rising from his chair, he grabbed a blanket and covered Morgana with it before returning to his seat. He worked into the early morning hours, periodically watching Morgana as she tossed around in her sleep.

\---

Morgana woke up late the next morning, bleary eyed and groggy, but feeling well-rested. She rolled over, looking up at the canopy, and she recognized it as Arthur’s bed. She was facing the wrong end of the bed, with her feet hitting the headboard, but she had a blanket covering her and a pillow under her head; Arthur’s doing, she assumed. 

As Morgana maneuvered herself to put her feet on the ground, she heard rustling off to her left. Her head snapped up, expecting to see Arthur. Instead, she caught sight of a telltale red scarf as Merlin scurried around Arthur’s room, looking awkward.

Morgana noticed that he was avoiding looking in her direction, so with a grin on her lips, she called out, “Merlin.”

Merlin slowed in his work and looked up at Morgana, a blush coloring his cheeks. He no longer knew how to act around Morgana; their friendship was so tenuous at this point. To find her in Arthur’s bed, in a nightdress… to say he was uncomfortable would be an understatement. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you, my lady, Arthur asked me not to wake you up—”

“It’s fine, Merlin. It’s nearly midday; I can’t stay in bed forever.” Standing from the bed, she walked over to Arthur’s armoire and rifled through his clothes. There was a slight chill on the air, and she hadn’t brought a cover with her. She pulled out a long, brown coat from the back of his armoire and slipped it on over her nightdress. As she tugged the coat around her body, a thought occurred to her. “Midday,” she repeated. She spun towards Merlin, her eyes wide. “Arthur, is he—?”

Merlin looked sheepish. “He’s about to leave.”

“That infuriating man,” Morgana grumbled. She grabbed a pair of Arthur’s boots and shoved her feet into them, even though they were several sizes too big. Inadvertently directing her anger at Merlin, she glared at the servant, her mouth set in a hard line. “I was supposed to see him off in the square, he knew that!”

“He didn’t want to wake you,” Merlin mumbled.

Morgana passed the window, catching her reflection in the glass. “I look a sight,” she groaned. She tied her hair up with a spare bit of ribbon, grumbling to herself under her breath. Turning to Merlin, she asked, “And what about you, aren’t you seeing him off?”

He held up a satchel. “I needed to get a few more things for his trip.”

Morgana huffed, annoyed with Merlin’s lack of impatience. She grabbed him by the front of his shirt, tugging him with her as she walked briskly to the door, her boots clunking with every step.

They made their way through the castle, only stopping when Merlin indicated that he needed to go fetch Arthur’s horse. Morgana released her hold on his shirt and sent him off to the stables. She continued on her way to the square, moving as quickly as she could manage in the large shoes. As she rounded the corner of the hall leading to the main castle doors, she saw the light glinting off of bright metal as the sun shone through the windows. Morgana immediately recognized it as the distinct silver of Arthur’s armor, and she started running towards him. She nearly tripped over her feet several times, and as she neared him, she launched herself forward, praying that he’d catch her before she fell.

Arthur turned just in time to see Morgana clomping down the hall, in his boots, no less. Her hair was spilling out around her face, and her white and gold nightgown was visible through the front gap in his brown coat. She barreled into him, and he caught her before she collided with his chest, sweeping her up into his arms.

Morgana threw her arms over his shoulders and knitted her hands together behind his neck, holding on tightly. Arthur lifted her off the ground, chuckling in amusement. As he held her, the too-large boots slipped off her feet and dropped to the stone floor with a dull thud. 

With her face pressed against the bare skin of his neck, Morgana murmured, “I had to see you before you left.” As she spoke, puffs of her breath bounced off the bend of his shoulder, warming her face.

Arthur kissed the side of her head before readjusting her in his arms, pulling back so he could look at her face while still holding her. “I’m sorry; I couldn’t bear to wake you this morning. I thought you might have been up before I left, but you slept longer than I thought.”

Morgana glowered at him, but there was no real heat behind her stare. “Next time, wake me. I would’ve liked a few minutes to get dressed.”

Scanning her appearance once more, Arthur grinned. “I think you look nice.”

If her hands hadn’t been locked together around his neck, she would’ve hit him. She settled for a glare and a pout, which only made Arthur laugh.

“You know, this is the second time you’ve chased after me in your nightgown. I rather think we should make it a tradition.”

The memory of the first time she had come running after him made her frown, the thoughts of his near-death experience upsetting her.

As if reading her thoughts, Arthur leaned in and placed a soft peck of a kiss on her lips. He whispered, “I’ll be fine, Morgana.” He set her down on the floor then, carefully lowering her onto her toes.

Morgana looked up at him, her eyes shining as she begged, “Promise me you’ll come back.”

He smiled. “I’m coming back, Morgana.” His smile widened, turning into something more playful. “I couldn’t leave you now, obviously, not when you’re so clearly infatuated with me. You’d be lost without me.”

With her hands no longer hooked behind his neck, Morgana pushed at his shoulder. He absorbed the blow and swayed slightly, rocking on his heels, his grin never wavering. She couldn’t help but smile back at him, despite her fears. “I’ll see you soon,” she whispered.

Arthur nodded at her, his eyes staying on her as he turned and walked down the steps to the courtyard.

\---

As Arthur left, Morgana watched from her window, tracking him until he disappeared over the hills outside the city. Once he was gone, Morgana summoned Gwen and got dressed properly. She ate a meal by herself, picking at the bits of bread and fruit on her plate. The food was fine, but she couldn’t seem to stomach anything. Arthur had promised to come home, but something about this trip was worrying her more than usual. Pushing it out of her mind, she forced down the rest of her food. When she finished, she went on with her day, busying herself around the castle. 

She received a brief lecture from Uther when she saw him; he was displeased that she hadn’t come to bid Arthur goodbye. Morgana assured him that she had wished the prince luck, but in private. Uther’s eye twitched almost imperceptibly, his face clouding over with some unreadable emotion. He nodded and walked away, the coldness from his stare still lingering and chilling Morgana deep in her bones. The king may hide it well, but she knew what he truly thought of her. He didn’t trust her, and from his reaction, he didn’t approve of her closeness with his son either. But he didn’t have any reason to harm her, not yet, and Morgana only hoped that she could hold out long enough for Arthur’s reign.

She decided to take a walk around the gardens, needing the fresh air to clear her head. On her way, she noticed Merlin wandering the halls and smiled at him. He looked just as lost as she felt. “Missing Arthur already?” Morgana asked loudly, catching the boy’s attention.

Merlin stopped and turned towards the sound of her voice. His brow was furrowed, but his eyes still had a sparkle to them, and his mouth was quirking up into a grin. “Not a chance. I think this may be the first day off that I’ve had in three years.”

Morgana smirked knowingly. “Don’t know what to do with yourself, do you?”

Merlin chuckled. “Not really. I’m sure I’ll find something to do.”

Morgana walked the few steps over to where Merlin stood, her heels clicking in the silence of the empty hall. For the second time that day, she grabbed Merlin, this time slinging her arm under his to hold him at her side. “You’re coming with me to the gardens.”

Her tone had left no room for protestation, but Merlin still tried. “Morgana, I don’t think—”

Ignoring him, Morgana started walking, pulling him with her. “I can’t even remember the last day that we spent time alone together.”

Merlin flushed, the heat of his guilt rushing to his cheeks. “Morgana…” He ducked his head, looking away from her as they stepped out of the castle into the bright sunlight.

She could see the gardens up ahead, and Morgana sighed. “I’m still your friend, Merlin, I don’t want to lose—” The words choked off on the edge of her tongue, her mouth no longer able to form speech as a spasm of pain racked through her body. Morgana rocked forward on her feet, nearly tipping over and crashing to the ground. The red hot pulsing ache in her chest was making it difficult to breathe, and she clenched her eyes shut as she tried to cope with the pain. The backs of her eyelids were tattooed with bright spots of color, and as she focused on them, she could see visions of Arthur swimming across her eyes. His face was distorted and blurred from one swirling color to the next, but it never faded. With a large, gasping breath, Morgana’s eyes shot open and she straightened up to her full height. As the pain subsided, she blinked several times to clear Arthur’s face, her breathing still ragged.

Merlin’s hands were resting on Morgana’s shoulders from where he had grabbed her as she had pitched forward, trying to steady her. He was stunned, his expression a mixture of worry and confusion. “Morgana? Are you alright?”

She wasn’t alright, but she couldn’t explain what had happened. It was as though she had experienced a waking nightmare—her fingertips were still pulsating with the faint echo of magic. Trying to stop her hands from shaking, she smoothed them down over her skirts, taking a breath as she did. “I’m fine,” she lied, the words sliding out easily. “Just a headache.”

Merlin’s eyebrow lifted minutely, but he didn’t contradict her. He slowly released her shoulders, letting his hands hover closely for a moment until he was sure she wouldn’t fall without him.

“You were right, visiting the gardens wasn’t the best idea,” Morgana mumbled, stepping away from him.

“Morgana, you should—” As he spoke, a guard rounded the corner and startled them both, the half-hearted protest dying on his lips.

Morgana used the distraction to slip away, her head still reeling from the strange onslaught of images, and her heart throbbing with that familiar piercing feeling of Arthur being in danger. There was something wrong; if only she knew what.

\---

Morgana had the same pain in her chest for the rest of the day. Every time she breathed in, she could smell scorching air, the sensation burning at her nose. Her limbs felt heavy, her whole body weary; though she had done nothing but sit in her room for hours. If it wasn’t for the flickering images of Arthur that flitted across her vision when she closed her eyes, she would’ve thought that something was wrong with her. 

After anxiously pacing her quarters, exhaustion set in, and she had no choice but to succumb to the urge to sleep.

It wasn’t long before the inevitable rush of dreams crashed over her. The images sucked her under, filling her lungs with the pressure of repressed screams. Arthur was sinking, fading, his feet traveling the same circled path with no end. A tower loomed ahead, the blackness of its spires blocking out the red sun. There was a bright golden glow, the source indistinguishable, and then dark wings over the horizon. Arthur was lying on the ground, his eyes shut and his chest still. 

Morgana shot up in her bed, her sheets soaked from sweat and tears. For once, she didn’t yell; the pain was too familiar by now. She had seen Arthur die in her dreams a hundred times over, and the residual ache from the day reminded her that she had seen this coming. The sight of his face in her dreams confirmed her fears—Arthur was in danger.

\---

Before the sun had even broken through the bottom of the sky, Morgana went to the physician’s chambers and woke Merlin. She stood at the foot of his bed, staring down at him as she grabbed his leg and shook it. As soon as the boy opened his eyes, Morgana announced, “Arthur isn’t going to survive his quest.” The words were tinged with sadness, but her voice was calm and steady.

Merlin blinked wearily, rubbing at his eyes with his hands. “What?”

“He’s not going to come back. He won’t succeed.” She reached out and grabbed the footboard of the bed, needing something to hold on to.

Merlin swung his legs out from under the sheets, setting his feet on the ground as he sat up on the edge of the bed. “Morgana, I know you’re worried, but—”

Her knuckles were turning white, and the wood was creaking under her fingers. “I’ve seen it.”

Shadows passed over Merlin’s eyes at her words, but he blinked and they were gone. “Morgana, perhaps this time, it was just a dream.”

Morgana scowled. “I know the difference.” The wood cracked loudly and Morgana let go, taking a step back. “I could feel it, Merlin. There’s something magical about those lands, something that even Arthur can’t escape. He’ll be lost for days, wandering until the desert finally claims him.” Her hands shook, and she crossed her arms over her chest to hide it. “He needs magic to make it through.”

Merlin, who had been staring down at his lap, looked up at her slowly.

“He needs us,” she continued. “We have to help him.”

Lamely, Merlin mumbled, “He’s supposed to do this alone, Morgana.”

Her eyes rolled skyward as she scoffed. “When has something like that ever stopped you before?” 

He shrugged, his lips pursing out as he nodded. It was true, but he was still reluctant. His first instinct was to be wary of Morgana—though he knew it wasn’t necessary; he couldn’t control it.

Morgana dug her fingers deeper into her ribcage, holding herself together. “If we don’t go after him, we will never see him again, I know it.”

The conviction in her voice won him over in the end. She seemed so certain, and he couldn’t risk the chance that Arthur would die because he did nothing. Merlin sighed. “Alright,” he acquiesced. He stood up from the bed, adjusting his nightclothes. “But you realize we can’t do this alone. We may have magic, but you and I can’t make it all the way to the Perilous Lands without help.” They didn’t have the manpower to fight off bandits or anything else they may have to face, and Merlin knew that there were some things even his magic couldn’t handle. “And it’s not like we can ask any of the knights to join us.”

A smile bloomed on Morgana’s lips. “Don’t worry, Merlin. I know just who we need.”

\---

Later that morning, Morgana and Merlin set out to find someone to help them on their mission. Morgana had told Gwen about her plans, but no one else could know. Gwen had held her tightly before she left, mussing Morgana’s hair as she gripped the back of her head. “Be careful,” Gwen had whispered. Morgana clutched her friend even tighter, swearing that everything would be alright, even though she knew that there was no way she could guarantee that.

Morgana and Merlin snuck out on their horses, doing their best not to attract any attention. They rode for hours, with Morgana leading the way. She took them out past Camelot’s borders, and as soon as they crossed the line, she abruptly stopped, closing her eyes and concentrating.

Merlin came up short behind her, yanking on the reins to get his horse to stop. “Morgana?” he questioned.

She held up a hand as if to tell him to be quiet, her eyes still shut. The air crackled around her, and she took a steadying breath before picking up the reins and redirecting her horse. She chose a path and kicked her horse, taking off at a gallop.

Merlin shook his head as he watched her go. “Right, then.” He followed her, since he had no other choice.

Morgana didn’t speak for the rest of their ride; she was too focused on the path ahead. When she finally stopped, they had arrived at a small village. “We’re here,” she announced as she dismounted from her horse.

“And where is here, exactly? You didn’t really mention where we were going. Or who we’re looking for,” Merlin quipped.

Morgana ignored his questions. “Come on.” She waited for Merlin to get off his horse and then dragged him down a narrow road that led into the town. Morgana surveyed the town as she walked, though what she was looking for, Merlin couldn’t say. She seemed to find it, however, because her eyes lit up and she pulled Merlin along to a dilapidated building with a broken sign that appeared to have once contained the word ‘tavern’ on it.

“A tavern?” Merlin mumbled.

Morgana pulled Merlin inside, the stench of stale mead and sweat hitting her in the face. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, but didn’t let it deter her. It only took a single sweep of the room to find the right man.

There was a large commotion in one corner, and it caught Morgana’s eye. A handsome man was fighting off several burly men, a drunken grin spread across his lips. Morgana cleared her throat loudly to catch their attention.

At the sound, the large men stopped fighting, intrigued by the presence of a noblewoman. The grinning one looked up at Morgana, his eyes sparkling as he lifted his head and met her gaze. His grin widened as he raked his eyes over her. With that tireless grin still in place, he chuckled low, greeting her with, “Hello, princess.”

Merlin laughed in amusement from behind Morgana, the pieces falling into place.

Morgana smiled back at the man, shaking her head. “It’s good to see you, Gwaine.”

\---

Arthur had been riding for nearly two days now, making his way through forests and valleys. While he had slept the previous night, some bandits had attacked him, but he had fought them off without any problems. His journey had been fairly simple other than that; one could possibly say it was boring. He had often worried that he was going in the wrong direction, but as he rode over a high ridge, he could see the burning red sun illuminating the wastelands up ahead. He was getting close. Though he couldn’t see it, he knew that the Dark Tower was somewhere up ahead.

He pulled out a map to check his path, and found that it was one of the maps Morgana had covered in her scrawling handwriting. Chuckling to himself, he shoved it back into his bag. He continued to ride until the path became too narrow, and he had no choice but to continue on foot.

There was a small bridge up ahead, and Arthur found his route blocked by a small man. As he drew closer, the man asked, “Who is it that wishes to cross my bridge?”

Arthur put away his sword to show that he wasn’t a threat, and answered, “A knight, on a quest to retrieve the trident of the Fisher King.”

“Ah, then you must be courage,” the man replied.

Arthur pulled a face, lifting his eyebrows in confusion and countering with, “No, I’m Prince Arthur of Camelot.”

As Arthur came closer, the man moved into his path. “Before I let you pass, let me give you a little advice. As courage, there are three more things you’ll need to complete your quest. Strength, heart, and magic.” 

Arthur gave the man a strange look, and considered telling him that he didn’t have any magic, but he kept it to himself. He nodded at smaller man. “Thank you for your help.”

The man stepped aside, sweeping his arm out to show that Arthur could pass. As Arthur walked onto the bridge, the man’s eyes flicked down to the prince’s wrist for a brief second. Arthur didn’t even notice; he just kept walking as the man’s echoing laughter faded behind him.

\---

After Morgana reasoned with the angry men in the tavern, she and Merlin managed to get Gwaine out of there, and she even bargained for a horse for him to ride. She explained that they needed help, and Gwaine willingly agreed to come with them.

As they rode, Gwaine started to ask questions, as he was rather uninformed on the whole situation.

Morgana vaguely answered how she found him, telling him some excuse about searching all the taverns from Essetir to Mercia. Gwaine laughed and accepted her answer as the joke that it was, while Merlin gave her a pointed look, knowing that there was more to the story.

“So what exactly is going on?” Gwaine asked. “Arthur’s in trouble, yet again? I think I may have to start charging him for the times I save his life.”

Merlin snorted, and Morgana shook her head. Morgana replied, “He’s gone to the Perilous Lands on a quest.”

“And you two don’t think he’ll make it without you?”

Merlin piped up, “Well, he is quite hopeless without us.”

Gwaine shrugged, and after a moment, started his questioning again. “So, princess, how is Arthur? You know, last time we met, you two seemed to be in a bit of a rough patch.”

Color crept up in Morgana’s cheeks, but she remained poised. “He’s doing just fine, Gwaine. Other than the fact that he may be about to die in a day or so.”

Gwaine grinned. “But you’re the one out on a rescue mission for him, not that pretty little serving girl; that must mean something.”

“My relationship with Arthur is none of your business.” Her tone was slightly sharp, but there was no hiding the grin on her lips.

“Ah, so that means it worked, then,” he remarked.

Morgana shook her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Cheekily, Gwaine pushed on, “You know, you should be thanking me.”

Merlin watched the pair intently as they bantered, not quite understanding but enjoying it all the same.

Morgana scoffed loudly. “You weren’t that great of a kisser, Gwaine.”

Merlin choked on a laugh.

“Good enough to bother Arthur, I’m sure.” Gwaine spurred his horse on faster to keep pace with Morgana, turning his head to watch her. “Looking back on it, maybe it wasn’t the best decision. I mean, it’s a shame that you’re not available anymore.”

Morgana caught Gwaine’s infuriating smile from out of the corner of her eye and she shook her head, blocking out the rest of his comments as they continued to ride.

\---

Traveling on foot made the trip much slower, and Arthur was starting to wish he still had his horse. He could only carry so much with him, and he had left many precious supplies with the horse. After hours of walking, he reached the Perilous Lands, but it was a small victory. He struggled horribly to cross through the lands, continually finding himself lost or going in circles.

In the back of his mind, he vaguely remembered Morgana’s warning about the magic in this land. He feared that she may have been right. The woods he traveled through seemed to purposefully turn him around, and he had been stuck there on a loop for a good portion of the day. Once he finally escaped the thicket of trees and vines, he was dumped out into a desert, where he was exposed to the intense dry heat.

He wasted nearly a day out in the open wastelands, unable to figure out the right way to go and slowly using up his supplies. The sun was scorching his skin, and his tongue felt thick in his mouth from the lack of water.

There weren’t any trees to provide shade, and the land stretched on endlessly in front of him with no end in sight. Arthur began to regret his choice of this quest, but he refused to give up yet.

He trekked on through the desolate expanse of land, once nearly drowning in a vat of quicksand; but he escaped before it could completely trap him. The endeavor of pulling himself out of the pit was tiring, however, and he collapsed there, letting sleep take him. 

\---

After riding as far as they could, Morgana, Merlin, and Gwaine started trekking on foot. They crossed a bridge, where a strange little man made remarks about magic, heart, and strength. He seemed to know of Arthur and his quest, and as the trio crossed the bridge, the man warned, “Remember, nothing is as it seems.”

They traveled as far as they could in a day before stopping to make camp. Merlin got a small fire going and they ate what little scraps of food they had with them. As night rolled in and darkness fell, an eerie chill settled over their camp. They were deep into the forest on the edge of the Perilous Lands now, and both Morgana and Merlin could sense the magic deep within the land under their feet.

There were strange noises emanating from the forest, and Morgana exchanged a look with Merlin before excusing herself, claiming that she needed a moment alone. Once she was far enough away from prying eyes, she lifted a hand and mumbled a spell of protection low under her breath. She continued to chant, the magic from inside her spilling out and covering the camp in a protective blanket.

As she finished, she opened her eyes and surveyed her work. Pleased with what she saw, she turned back towards camp and found that she was being watched. Merlin was standing only a few feet away, and it was clear from his expression that he had been there for a while. Breathing out a sigh of relief upon seeing that it wasn’t an intruder, Morgana shook her head at him. “You shouldn’t spy on people.”

He tipped his head in the direction of the perimeter of the camp. “I could have helped you with that.”

“I managed just fine on my own.” There was a hint of malice behind her words, the venom seeping through as she spoke. She didn’t need anyone’s help.

“I noticed,” he commented. “Your magic, it’s getting stronger, isn’t it?”

With an almost imperceptible roll of her shoulders, she replied, “I suppose it is.” Hoping to leave it there, she started to head back into camp, but Merlin side-stepped into her path and blocked her way.

“It’s getting harder to control,” he added.

Morgana’s eyes narrowed. “I’m fine.”

Merlin wasn’t easily deterred, however, and he ignored her glare. “I saw you yesterday. You had a premonition, long before you ever went to sleep.”

“It was a headache, Merlin, I told you,” she bit.

His head cocked to the side as he studied her. “And that was all?”

“Just a headache,” she affirmed.

Merlin pressed his lips together and nodded at her. “Well, I guess I was mistaken.”

The hard expression masking Morgana’s face slipped, and her cheek twitched. She thought of the searing red flashes blurring her vision, the nightmares breaking through into her waking conscious, and considered telling Merlin. But what came out of her mouth was, “I guess you were.”

Merlin watched her with a quizzical look on his face, but he didn’t question her any further.

Morgana pushed past him and walked back towards where Gwaine sat around the camp fire. She grabbed a blanket and settled on the ground for the night, ignoring the looks from her companions.

\---

Arthur woke up face down in a bed of twigs and sand, his eyes blinking rapidly against the blinding sunlight. Sitting up, he spit out the dirt in his mouth and rubbed his hands over his face. He was still tired, but he had to keep going, so he rose to his feet and continued on, determined to reach the Dark Tower and claim his prize.

He traveled across the open desert for the rest of the morning, the land stretching on, the tower in the distance looking distorted and blurry from the heat. As he grew closer, the stench of death wafted past his nose, and he resisted the urge to retch. His hands dropped to rest on the tops of his knees as he bent at the waist, trying to catch his breath. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this drained. The water skin on his belt was light against his thigh, its emptiness reminding him of his intense thirst. There was no water for miles, and the dry heat was sucking all the moisture out of his skin.

The tower was casting shadows only feet in front of him, and he forced himself to move, each step causing him pain. By the time he reached the base of the tower, he was dehydrated and exhausted. He could barely see two feet in front of him; his vision was too filled with spots to properly focus on anything.

As he walked down the slope to the Tower, he saw spiraling shadows cast around him. At first he put it down to his waning vision, but then a loud screech cut through the air, the vibrations of the sound shaking through him. He frantically searched the sky, trying to find the source.

It didn’t take long before he found it, as a large winged creature dive-bombed him. His reflexes were slow, but he managed to duck under it, the motion causing him to lose his footing and slip to the ground. His right shoulder ached from the impact with the sand as he struggled to move. There were more of the creatures, and they kept coming.

Arthur rolled across the sand, dodging the creatures. They vaguely resembled dragons, and Arthur started to imagine swirling lines of red and gold trailing around in the sky behind their wingtips. Pendragon colors, his thoughts reminded him. He was as much dragon as they were, and he refused to let them beat him now. Not when he was so close.

Another one of the creatures flew down in a low dive, trying to attack him, but this time Arthur was ready. He drew his sword, waiting to swing it until the precise moment. He held steady until he felt the gusts of wind from the wing beats on his face, then swung his sword out in a high arc, knocking the creature from the sky.

The sword felt so heavy in his hands, and he let it fall, using the momentum to drive it down into the creature’s chest. With a low scream, it died, and Arthur had to use his sword as a cane to keep himself upright as he backed away. The ground was littered with more dark shadows from the shapes above, and Arthur picked up his sword, running for the tower.

\---

Morgana had woken at first light, and she had rounded up the boys, forcing them to get moving. She knew that the land could eat you alive if you stayed still for too long.

However, before they could start, they needed a sure path through the Perilous Lands, or else they would surely be lost. Though Morgana was fully capable of casting a tracking spell, she opted to let Merlin do the honors, choosing instead to be the one to distract Gwaine. She didn’t want to give Merlin any more reason to question her magic.

Once the pathway was lit, they set out on foot, walking into the heart of the Perilous Lands. Their route took them through dense forests of vines that emptied out into barren wastelands littered with broken trees and loose dirt. While the forest had been overgrown, with the trees spiraling up through the earth and blocking the sun, the wastelands were filled with the loss of all living things. Death pulled at their ankles with each step, the air feeling heavy and uncomfortable in their lungs.

This place wasn’t just cursed, it was desolate and broken. The magic in the earth screamed in Morgana’s ears, having been twisted into something terrible and wrong for too many years. She knew Merlin felt it too; the look on his face was just as pained as hers.

With the spell guiding their way, they made good time, despite the uncomfortable heat and the earth roiling under their feet. By dusk, they were in range of the tower, and they could see the winged creatures circling the castle like a warning.

Some of the creatures were diving down as if they were trying to catch some sort of prey, and Morgana squinted against the sun. A small gasp of both relief and fear passed her lips with a puff of air as she recognized the thing they were attacking. “Arthur,” she breathed.

\---

Arthur managed to avoid the flying monsters, ducking and weaving as he ran. He made it to the stone walls of the tower, his weight falling heavy against it as he pushed himself through the gate. His head felt full, his thoughts jumbled, but he knew he had to do something to protect himself.

To his right, there was a mechanism for the gate, with a chain that held the gate open. Using what strength he had left, Arthur lifted his sword in the air and swung it at the chain. Sparks flew as he hacked at the metal, but eventually the rusted chains cracked and broke apart. The gate came tumbling free of its bonds, the spikes at the bottom hurtling towards the ground. With a loud crash, the gate was closed, and the creatures were trapped on the opposite side.

Arthur took a few deep breaths before lifting himself off the wall and traveling further into the tower.

\--- 

Once she saw Arthur, Morgana was off like a shot, kicking up sand as she ran down the slope towards the castle. Merlin and Gwaine followed in pursuit, but they weren’t as fast. 

Morgana had no intention of slowing down, but as she reached the tower, something swooped down out of the air and tried to grab her with its talons. With a scream, she jumped out of the way, rolling to the ground as she did.

Gwaine was immediately at Morgana’s side, pulling her to her feet. He kept one hand at her back to steady her, but his other was clutched tightly around his sword.

“What are those things?” Morgana asked between heaving breaths.

“Wyverns,” Gwaine answered. “They’re distant cousins of the dragon.”

There was a twitch to Merlin’s jaw when Gwaine said the word dragon, and Morgana eyed him curiously. She thought there was something odd about his reaction, but Gwaine’s hand started pushing on her back and she lost her focus.

“We need to get inside,” he ordered.

All three started running for the tower, hoping for some sort of sanctuary within its walls. Several more wyverns flew at them, and Gwaine sliced at them with his sword, though he usually only made contact with the air. It seemed to be enough to scare them off, however, for they made it nearly all the way to the gate.

Upon seeing that it was closed, Gwaine ordered that they split up to find another entrance. Morgana went with Merlin to the left and Gwaine went to the right. 

As they searched for an entrance, Morgana heard the loud screeches of the wyverns behind her, and grabbed Merlin’s hand. Instead of running, she stopped and turned to face the creatures as they descended upon her and Merlin. 

Merlin gave her a look, but he didn’t protest, understanding what she was doing.

Squeezing Merlin’s hand, she glanced at him before lifting up her free hand towards the creatures. Muttering a chant under her breath, Morgana channeled Merlin’s magic through her, and with a burst of power, threw the wyverns backwards.

Merlin sucked in a shaky breath as he pulled his hand back, feeling the loss of power like a blow to the chest.

Morgana on the other hand felt strong, her body buzzing with energy, and she continued on their earlier path, searching for a way into the tower. She found a gap in the outer walls not too far ahead and climbed through it, not waiting for Merlin.

“Morgana,” Merlin called as he jogged to keep up with her. “We should go tell Gwaine we found a way inside.”

Morgana looked back at him over her shoulder, but didn’t stop. “You can get him and show him the way if you want. I need to find Arthur.”

“Morgana—”

Morgana climbed over a pile of broken stone, heading for the main tower. “It’s better if we split up, we’ll find him faster,” she said as a means of explanation. She still hadn’t turned around or slowed her pace.

Merlin sighed, but he relented. “Fine. But be careful.”

At that, she stopped and turned her head to look at him, a grin on her lips. “When am I not?” Her braid swung around her shoulders as she turned back and started moving toward her destination.

Merlin went back to the hole in the wall and stepped over the rubble, glancing at Morgana as she slipped into the tower.

\---

Morgana climbed the winding staircase of the tower, searching for any sign of Arthur. She knew he was in the tower somewhere, but it was larger than she thought.

She searched around the different levels of the tower as she reached them, but found nothing. Continuing to look, she started to yell Arthur’s name as she got higher in the tower.

Hearing noises, Morgana stopped yelling and listened closely. The sounds didn’t seem to be human, and Morgana knew that more wyverns must have breached the tower. They sounded angry about something, and she stopped to try and hear them. Along with the screeching, there was the distinct resonance of wood cracking under pressure, and Morgana tried to pinpoint the location of the noises. She closed her eyes and breathed in through her nose, letting her other senses fall away as she focused completely on her hearing. The wyvern’s jaws were snapping, and their claws were making deep scratches in the wood; and under all that, there was the faint thud of something hitting the floor, something heavy. Morgana’s eyes flew open, and she took off at a run. 

She drew her sword before she rounded the corner, ready to fight the beasts up ahead. As she saw the two wyverns, she charged, her sword held high. She stabbed one, her blade sinking into its neck. Pulling it out, she murmured a spell and enchanted the blade. The other wyvern had started to hover over her head, its wings beating the air vigorously. The air hit Morgana’s skin with a stinging force, and she blinked against it. With a flick of her wrist, she sent the blade flying with her magic, hoping that it would reach her target.

The wyvern made a satisfying scream of pain and dropped to the floor, Morgana’s sword still embedded in its chest. Morgana removed the blade and threw open the tattered remains of the door the creatures had been attacking.

Inside the room, she found Arthur collapsed in a heap in the corner, his chest still rising with the sign of breath, but his eyes shut and his mouth slack. Morgana rushed to his side, bending at the knee to look at him. He was alive, but he looked terrible. She lightly set her hand on his cheek, finding his skin clammy. “Arthur,” she whispered.

Arthur opened his eyes, blinking away the blurry haze clouding his vision. Through the swirling colors in his eyes, he made out Morgana’s face, and he smiled. “Morgana,” he muttered. “What are you—” As his mind cleared, he sat up, his smile fading. “Morgana!” he snapped.

Morgana shook her head, letting her hand fall from his face. “Hello to you, too.”

“What are you doing here?” he demanded. Even in his weakened state, he had the energy to be frustrated with her.

“Saving your life. You’re welcome, by the way.” She tilted her head, smirking at him.

“You expect thanks for showing up here? On my quest!” Arthur spluttered. “I told you, I was supposed to do this alone! You can’t be here!”

Morgana shrugged. “I couldn’t let you die out here.”

Arthur glared at her, clearly not moved by her concern for him.

Before Morgana had the chance to explain, Merlin and Gwaine came barreling in through the doorway, swords at the ready.

Arthur took one look at them and shook his head, his exhaustion keeping him from being as furious as he’d like. “This just keeps getting better and better,” he grumbled.

Morgana lifted an eyebrow at Merlin and Gwaine in amusement before turning back to Arthur. “Shut up, Arthur,” she ordered. “I knew you were going to die, I could feel it. So stop complaining.”

Arthur looked at her intently, noticing the worry lines marring her face, and nodded. He knew without explanation that she must have had a nightmare of his death. The dreams were bad enough without him giving her a hard time for trying to stop them.

As Arthur’s face softened, Morgana smiled at him. Truthfully, now that she was in the tower, she knew that her vision hadn’t been the only reason she had come. It was like this place had called to her. The tower was filled with a deep magic of its own, with a treacherous force that tugged on her and screamed for help.

Arthur attempted to get up off the floor, but as he tried to stand, he stumbled and crashed back down to the floor.

Arthur’s hand caught her arm as he fell, and Morgana nearly fell on top of him. She pulled her arm free of his grip, and as she did, she noticed something on his wrist. He was wearing a bracelet that she had never seen on him before, but something about it was so familiar. “Where did you get that?” she demanded of Arthur.

Arthur, barely able to form the words, gurgled, “What are you talking about? You—you…” His head fell back against the floor and he nearly passed out.

Morgana looked from Arthur’s face to the bracelet on his wrist, and without thinking too much of it, ripped the bracelet off of him.

Merlin and Gwaine were silent, watching the scene in front of them. Merlin looked at Morgana, his eyes hard and his brow furrowing with unspoken questions.

Before anyone could speak, a loud noise startled them as another wyvern crashed through the door. Gwaine spun with his sword out and quickly sliced off the creature’s head before it could attack.

Arthur stuttered, shaking himself out of his delirium and stood up, looking much more alert.

Gwaine slid his sword back into his belt and addressed the room, “We need to get going. More wyverns will be on their way.”

Arthur nodded and pushed through the door. “I have to find the trident,” he explained.

While everyone watched Arthur leave, Morgana slipped the bracelet into her pocket. Then she followed her stubborn prince, motioning for Merlin and Gwaine to come along with her.

They walked down the halls of the tower, trying to find where the trident was kept. Morgana was at the point where she thought the trident was lost forever, and she slowed, falling behind the boys.

Arthur felt much better all of a sudden, and his determination to find the trident was making him move even faster through the levels of the tower.

As they all picked up the pace to keep up with Arthur on their search to find the right room, Morgana’s foot caught on a loose floor stone, and she slipped, falling against a wall. She put out her hands to catch herself, but the wall gave way under her fingers. She let out a yelp as she toppled through a hole and into another room.

The boys heard her cry and stopped, turning back to check on her. Gwaine was closest, and he ran towards where he had last seen her.

As Gwaine grew closer, Morgana tried to move to get over to him, but a large slab of rock fell from the ceiling, as if it were a door, and closed off the opening between them. “Gwaine!” she screamed, slamming her fists against the wall of rock that blocked her way.

Arthur, no longer concerned with the trident, ran over to the door, placing his hands all over it, trying to find a way through it. “Morgana!” he yelled. “Are you alright?”

Morgana could faintly hear Arthur’s frantic cries, and she loudly replied, “Yes!”

“We’re going to get you out of there!” The lilt to the voice identified it as Gwaine, though the sound was muffled.

While they tried the door, Morgana decided that she needed to look for another way out of the room. There had to be some kind of door or window that she could escape through. As she walked along the walls trying to find something, she heard a whisper of her name. She stopped moving and listened closely, hearing it for a second time. At first she thought it was Arthur, but as she heard it again, it was clear that it was coming for somewhere inside the room with her.

“Who’s there?” Morgana asked, even though she doubted she’d get an answer.

“Morgana,” the voice called again, this time louder.

Morgana followed the sound, finding herself in a large, barren throne room. There were no decorations or banners, only a single throne sitting in the middle of the room, covered in layers of dust. She crept up behind the chair, noticing the glint of a golden trident propped against one of the arms. The voice forgotten for a moment, she reached for the trident, her fingertips gliding along the handle.

As she curled her fingers around the weapon, she felt a sharp tug in her wrist. Looking down, she saw there was a hand holding her arm, stopping her from getting the trident. Her eyes followed the line of the arm up to the shoulder, seeing then that there was the face of an old man, a man who was so old and withered, he had almost become a part of the chair in which he sat.

Unable to stop it, Morgana screamed, furiously yanking her arm out of the man’s grasp as she stumbled backwards. 

The man tilted his head to look at her, the movement sending layers of cobwebs and dust up in billows around him. “There is no need to fear me.”

Morgana had fallen onto her rear in her haste to get away, but at his words, she stopped scrambling and she pushed herself up off the ground with her hands. She stood up, her legs shakily holding her upright. “You’re the Fisher King,” she breathed in wonderment.

“I have been waiting for you,” he replied, his voice raspy from disuse.

“Me?” Morgana squeaked incredulously.

He ignored her question, continuing, “There’s a storm coming, Morgana.”

A cold chill passed over her, and she clutched at her arms with her hands to ward it off. “How do you know my name?” 

“I know all about you, Morgana. You are Arthur’s heart. The daughter of Gorlois, and a high priestess of Avalon.” What could’ve passed as a smile appeared on his lips, the withered and darkened skin masking the motion. “I have been waiting all these years for the arrival of a new era, and it is finally dawning.” He took a rattling breath as he paused. “But you must be strong, for there are dark times ahead.”

Morgana blinked to try and clear her head. None of this made any sense. “I don’t understand,” she admitted. “What does this have to do with me?”

“It has everything to do with you. While Emrys may be chosen to save Albion, he cannot do it alone. He will need your help.”

Morgana shook her head. She was lost, she didn’t know anyone by the name of Emrys.

“You are crucial to the greater plan, Morgana. Without you, everything will fall.”

At his words, Morgana saw flickering images of fire and blood, her own lips tinged blue from the coldness of death; and Arthur, Arthur collapsing to his knees on an empty plain. As the images faded, she drew in a sharp breath, staring coldly at the Fisher King, her eyes questioning.

“In time, you will understand,” he offered as an explanation.

The images were still seared into her mind, devastating and confusing, but Morgana nodded.

“I have something for you.” He reached into his cloak and produced a small vial of water. “It is water, from the Lake of Avalon.”

Those words were one that Morgana understood, and her eyes widened as she looked upon the sacred water that he held.

“When all seems lost, this will guide your way.” He extended the vial to Morgana, and she gingerly took it from his hands.

“Thank you.” She slipped the vial into her pocket, careful not to crush it.

The Fisher King eyed her pockets and then looked back at Morgana’s face. “I have given you a gift. Now you must give me one in return.”

Morgana’s mouth fell open slightly and she shook her head. “I have nothing, I—” she stopped as she saw his eyes dropping back to stare at her pockets. Reaching down into the one without the vial, she produced the bracelet she had taken off of Arthur’s wrist. She had seen pictures of this bracelet before, fuzzy images in the back of her memory, but she recalled that it had the power to kill. She lifted her head, looking at the Fisher King once more. “You want to die,” she murmured.

The king bowed his head. “Yes.” With a great struggle, he rose from his chair, wheezing from the exertion. He held out his hand towards Morgana and looked at her expectantly.

Taking a few small steps forwards, Morgana lifted the bracelet and carefully placed it on his wrist. She moved back and watched as the orange stone in the bracelet began to glow.

The Fisher King lifted his head to look up at the ceiling and the sky above, and with a shuddering ripple of the air, he vanished. The trident clattered to the floor in the empty space where the king had been, and Morgana reached down and grabbed it.

A loud grinding sound echoed off the walls and Morgana moved towards it, finding that the boys had managed to get the door open.

Arthur grinned at her when he saw her come around the corner. “Morgana!”

She walked over to the door in time to see Gwaine and Merlin slip under the small opening. She was still shaky from her encounter with the Fisher King, but she held out the trident to Arthur and managed to smile. “Your prize, I presume.”

Arthur took the trident and leaned in to kiss her cheek happily.

Morgana turned to the other boys and smiled gratefully at them. Gwaine moved forward and collected her in his arms, hugging her tightly. “Glad you’re alright, princess,” he murmured into her hair.

Morgana chuckled as Gwaine released her, and she caught Arthur’s slight glare out of the corner of her eye. “I think it’s about time we go home.”

The boys all agreed and they started ducking back through the small opening, one by one. As Morgana followed, she stumbled, and Merlin caught her, one hand on her back and the other holding her arm. Morgana looked at him, and he must have seen something in her eyes, because he asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Morgana nodded numbly, the movement too stiff to be believable.

His fingers dug into her skin, flexing as he struggled to find what he was looking for in her expression. Eventually, he let go, shaking his head as he turned to follow Arthur and Gwaine.

Morgana trailed behind, her thoughts too muddled to be worried about Merlin at the moment.

\---

Heading back to Camelot and out of the Perilous Lands was a much easier task than the journey there. With the Fisher King dead, the magic in the land seemed to be dying with him. The land was still desolate and eerie, but the earth no longer screamed, and the trees no longer purposefully confused and trapped them. It seemed that the curse was lifted, and with time, the lands would flourish once more.

The ride back was fairly quiet, aside from Arthur’s complaining about them meddling with his quest, and Merlin and Gwaine’s occasional laughter.

After they made their way through Mercia, they stopped at Camelot’s border. Gwaine looked out wistfully over the field in front of them. “By Uther’s decree, I can go no further.”

Morgana frowned, looking over at Arthur.

Arthur shook his head. “I’m sorry, Gwaine. I wish there was something I could do to change that.”

Merlin cocked his head, adding, “Maybe one day.”

Morgana caught Arthur’s eye and smiled. She turned back to Gwaine and remarked, “Thank you for everything.”

Gwaine grinned back at her. “Anything for a princess.”

Arthur rolled his eyes dramatically and kicked at his horse, continuing to ride.

Merlin and Morgana exchanged a look and laughed. Morgana stared over at Gwaine, and bid him farewell. “Goodbye, Gwaine. I know we’ll see each other again.”

Gwaine nodded at them. “I look forward to it.”

Up ahead, Arthur looked back over his shoulder and tipped his head at Gwaine, smiling slightly despite his earlier show.

Gwaine turned his horse in the opposite direction, riding south towards the woods.

Morgana and Merlin watched him go, then both spurred on their horses and followed Arthur, ready to be home.

\---

Once they had arrived in Camelot, Arthur had shooed Merlin and Morgana away, making them swear to never tell anyone about their involvement in his quest. Morgana understood, and she promised to keep silent. Merlin agreed as well, though he was a bit more annoyed about it. They all went off in separate directions, pretending that they hadn’t seen each other in days.

Later that night, after they all had scrubbed themselves clean of the grime of the day—and Morgana had told Gwen the entire story against Arthur’s wishes—Merlin spotted Morgana walking through the halls, a pensive look on her face.

He hurried his pace to catch her, pulling her aside.

“Merlin!” Morgana gasped. She had been lost in her head, as she had been a lot lately, and hadn’t noticed him. “What is it?”

Merlin released her arm from his grip. “Morgana, what happened in the Dark Tower? I know there’s something you’re not telling me. I can see it all over your face.”

The images were barely distinguishable in her mind anymore, despite the fact that she had analyzed them a hundred times, trying to figure out what the Fisher King’s warning meant. “It was nothing,” she lied.

“You can’t keep lying to me, Morgana,” Merlin snapped. He took a breath, trying to keep the anger out of his tone. “Whatever it is, let me help.”

Morgana could see the desperation in his eyes, and she heard the truth in his words. She shook her head, admitting, “I don’t know how to explain it. I saw the Fisher King, and he… he warned me about something, though I’m not sure what.”

Merlin watched her closely, but he didn’t have anything to say.

Ducking her head, Morgana reached into her pocket and pulled out the vial that she was still carrying with her. “He gave me this.”

Merlin gently took the vial from her hands and inspected it.

“Something’s coming, Merlin. And I’m scared to think of what it might be.”

Merlin met her gaze, the fear blatantly obvious in her expression. He gave her back the vial, holding onto her hand as he did. He didn’t speak, he just lightly squeezed her hand, trying to reassure her that things would be alright.

\---

Morgana’s thoughts had been so focused on the Fisher King’s words, that it wasn’t until Arthur stopped by to see her that she remembered an important detail from their trip. Her eyes fell to his now bare wrist, and she thought of the bracelet that had been draining the life from him.

Arthur pulled her into his chest, planting kisses in her hair, but Morgana was miles away. She knew that bracelet; somehow she had known that it was dangerous, she had known to take it off of Arthur. But how?

Arthur could sense that Morgana was distant, and he pulled back, slipping two fingers under her chin and forcing her to look at him. 

She turned her head, her eyes closing as she tried to picture the bracelet. It was important, it was—

“Morgana?” Arthur asked.

Morgana opened her eyes, the pressure of the shock building in her chest. The bracelet, she had seen it last year. She had seen it on the Isle of the Blessed; she had seen it with her sister. Morgana tried to hide the overwhelming rush of disbelief that hit her, but it was difficult.

Arthur was immediately at her side, his hand on her shoulder. “Morgana, what’s wrong?”

She turned her head to look up at him, schooling her features. “It’s nothing. I just, I remembered something I have to do. I’m sorry, I have to go.” She rose up on her toes and kissed the corner of his mouth before running out of her chambers.

\---

The ride to the Isle of the Blessed seemed to take forever, and Morgana’s head ached from all her conflicting thoughts by the time she arrived.

Before she even got out of the boat, she yelled, “Morgause!” She didn’t bother with pulling the vessel ashore, she simply jumped over the side when it was shallow enough and waded to the beach.

When there was no response, she went into the castle ruins, searching out her sister’s quarters there. She found the blonde sitting in a large chair, her hands crossed in her lap.

“Morgana,” Morgause greeted, her tone as cheerful as ever.

“What did you do, Morgause? What did you do?” she bellowed.

Morgause winced as the noise reverberated through the room.

“You tried to kill Arthur!” Morgana screamed.

Morgause shook her head, rising slowly from the chair. “That isn’t true.”

Morgana scoffed angrily. “I saw the bracelet, Morgause! The bracelet he thought I gave to him! You left it there, you convinced him it was from me, and you nearly killed him!”

“Stop yelling, sister.” Morgause frowned, rubbing at her ear. “I never intended to kill your prince. I only meant to stop him from completing his quest.”

“So you admit that you gave the bracelet to him?” Morgana inquired, focusing only on that part of her sister’s statement.

Morgause nodded. “I did. But just to weaken him. I believed that if he failed, if Uther had no acceptable heir to the throne, then perhaps… Perhaps our misery could end with him.”

“It will end with him!” Morgana yelled, despite her sister’s request to stay quiet. “When Arthur is King, it will all end; I’ve told you this. Why would you harm him, when you know what he means to me?”

“Because you are blinded by your love for him,” Morgause snapped, her calm demeanor slipping. “He is a Pendragon, and he will be the death of you, Morgana. I have warned you of this before.”

“So you decided to try and kill him, in order to save me.”

“I didn’t—” Morgause started.

“That bracelet brings death, no matter what your intentions,” Morgana interrupted.

“I had to do something,” Morgause said, her voice snapping as sharp as a steel trap. “Uther grows more relentless every day, and I will not sit idly by and let you be killed, or worse, corrupted by his evil. I have tried to do as you wish, I have not harmed the people of Camelot, but there is only so long I can wait for Uther to perish.”

“I won’t let you hurt Arthur. I would rather die than see him harmed, Morgause.”

Morgause shook her head. “It was never about harming your precious prince. I just needed you to see things clearly, Morgana. If Arthur does die, or if Uther deems him unfit to be king, where will you be then?”

Morgana’s angry tirade lost its steam as she listened to her sister, the words sending chills over her skin. “Morgause…” 

“You are clinging on to the hope of a new world, sister, but there is no guarantee of that; not unless we act.” Morgause moved closer to her sister. “You cannot put all your faith in this one man, Morgana. It will lead to your doom.”

Morgana straightened her shoulders, staring down her sister. “I’d rather burn with him.”

Morgause sighed, dropping her gaze. “As you wish, sister. I only hope I am not around to see it.”


	9. Love in the Time of Dragons

After Morgause’s attempt on Arthur’s life, Morgana cut ties with her sister, even if only in her mind. She mentally swore not to trust her sister anymore; she too often found herself disappointed or led astray by Morgause’s decisions.

Thankfully Arthur hadn’t mentioned the bracelet again. Morgana knew that Morgause had left it in his room, and the blonde witch had admitted to leaving a forged note as well. As far as Arthur knew, the bracelet was a gift from Morgana, and he had lost it on his quest.

Morgana hoped he wouldn’t find out that it had nearly taken his life; he had forgiven her transgressions before, but she didn’t want him to have any more reason to not trust her. The whole affair had left Morgana drained, and she kept to herself for several days, ignoring Arthur’s late night visits and Merlin’s casual attempts to spend time with her.

It was nearing a week when Morgana went out into the woods neighboring the city to spend her day. She took a book with her to pass the time, tucking it under her arm as she walked. Once in the safety of the tall trees, she found a spot to sit and lowered herself down, resting her back against an old oak tree. She cracked open the book but found herself staring aimlessly at the pages, unable to focus. Several minutes went by like that, with the sounds of the forest lulling her into a state where time lost all meaning.

An unfamiliar sound broke through the muffled silence, several twigs lightly cracking as though underfoot. Morgana turned her head, finding that she was no longer alone. The sunlight glinted off a golden halo of blonde hair as Arthur stepped into the small clearing in front of her. Morgana sighed, shutting her book and letting it rest in her lap. “How’d you find me?”

Arthur shrugged. “You’ve been distant. Whenever something bothered you as a child, you’d come out here. It seemed the likely choice.”

Morgana shook her head. “I should’ve known. You always found me then, too.”

Arthur came and sat next to her, sharing the large expanse of the tree’s trunk to rest against. “Any chance if I ask what’s wrong you’ll tell me?”

Morgana looked over at him, a somber tint to her smile. The message in her eyes was clear; she never told him before, and she wouldn’t now.

Nodding, Arthur reached over and grabbed her hand, lightly gripping her fingers against his palm.

The warmth of his touch spread through her skin, and she felt another rush of guilt for everything he didn’t know; everything she wouldn’t tell him. She let out a long breath and leaned to the side, resting her head on Arthur’s shoulder.

“Should I guess, then?” Arthur asked. It was what the twelve year old version of himself would’ve done—ask her questions for hours until he would finally figure it out.

Morgana shrugged, the movement limited by her position against his body. He wouldn’t guess this one, but there was no harm in him trying.

Arthur tilted his head down, staring at what parts of her he could see from his angle. “Have you—” he started. His eyes landed on the book of spells in her lap and he asked, “Are you the one who’s been healing people in the lower town?”

Halfway sitting up, Morgana twisted so she could see his face. “What?” she choked out, trying not to laugh.

Arthur shrugged. “I heard about it from my father. People have been miraculously recovering from illnesses, and I know you can heal people, so I thought, maybe…”

Morgana shook her head. “Don’t be ridiculous, Arthur. I’m not foolish enough to do anything that risky.”

“You did it for me.”

Without taking a beat, Morgana replied, “And I’d do it again.” She shifted and sat up all the way so they were face to face. “But you’re different, you know that.”

He did, but it still made him smile to hear her say it.

“Uther already doesn’t trust me,” Morgana continued, “I can see it. I’m not about to give him incentive to kill me.”

Arthur wanted to contest her point, to reassure her that his father wouldn’t do that, but he knew it would be a lie. Images of Morgana burning on a pyre entered his mind, and it made his stomach churn. He squeezed her hand harder, using his grip on it to pull her closer. His guessing game was long forgotten, his only impulse now to keep her in his arms.

Morgana tucked herself into Arthur’s chest, nuzzling her nose along his collarbone. As if reading his thoughts, she murmured, “Don’t worry about me, Arthur. I’ll be fine.”

He nodded, placing kisses in her hair, but no matter what she said, he would always have that worry to carry with him, as long as his father was alive. They nestled down, staying like that for a long while, their backs pressed against an old tree as the forest buzzed around them.

\---

Arthur gladly would’ve stayed under the tree with Morgana forever, but he had duties and had to return to Camelot. There was a tournament coming up in a few days, a joust to be exact, and he had to train. Not that he wouldn’t normally train every day anyways, but he’d be more than willing to blow off his regular training to be with Morgana. He was unable to pull himself away from her lately, with what little time she spent with him. He was drawn to her, it was bordering on an obsession that was nearly unexplainable; he just wanted to be with her every second. It killed him when she avoided him; it was like a piece of him was missing without her around. It had gotten worse lately, to the point where he rarely went more than a few minutes without thinking about her. He’d spend hours picturing her face and her wicked little smile, imagining the feel of her smooth skin and her soft hair against his fingertips.

Stuck in one such moment, he missed Merlin calling his name until the servant started nudging his arm with a large shield.

“You know, Arthur, if you didn’t feel up to training, I would’ve been just fine taking the day off,” Merlin commented.

Arthur’s eyes lost their unfocused glaze and he turned his head and leveled Merlin with a fierce glare. “Sorry to disappoint, but we’re still training.”

“Doesn’t look like we’re—”

“Merlin!” Arthur cut him off sharply.

Merlin shrugged and went to get into position. As he looked up at Arthur’s face, he knew he was in for a more brutal attack than usual, and he braced himself.

Arthur flew at him, as expected, and Merlin went sprawling. They went on like that for a while, with Arthur attacking, and Merlin ending up on the ground.

The training went on for several hours, but even though Arthur put Merlin through quite a fierce beating, the servant seemed quiet after his initial teasing. He wasn’t making his usual snide comments, and it was clear from the bags under his eyes that he was tired.

Arthur grew bored of training with his unenthusiastic servant, and he sent Merlin home for the day. To be honest, his head was still somewhere else as well, and he could do with some down time to hopefully get Morgana off his mind.

\---

When Morgana returned to the castle, she was surprised to find that Uther had left word that he wished to dine with her. It was a rare occasion for her to spend time with Uther Pendragon these days. Despite his being her guardian, he did not seek out her company, nor her counsel, not like he had in the past. Things had changed for him, perhaps as long ago as the incident with the Witchfinder. He no longer seemed to treat her as a child, or even as a friend. She was a stranger in his house, someone he merely coexisted with on principle.

Of course, none of this had bothered Morgana much. She may have given up her mission of bringing an end to Uther’s life, but she still loathed the man and all he believed. Uther was as ruthless as ever, and Morgana knew perfectly well that he suspected that there was more to her story of coming back from the dead.

Morgana brushed her skirts down and sat at her dressing table, allowing Gwen to redo her hair so that it was presentable.

Gwen twisted Morgana’s hair up into a bun, smoothing down the curls with a brush. In a soft voice, she asked, “Do you know what he wants?”

Morgana looked up at Gwen’s reflection in the mirror, recognizing the hints of fear in Gwen’s eyes. While Gwen still didn’t know all about Morgana’s powers, she was a very intuitive person, and she knew better than most the things in Morgana’s heart and mind. Gwen had known for a long while that Uther was a man that everyone should be wary of, and Morgana was not an exception to this rule.

Morgana lowered her eyes, staring instead at the reflection of the necklace around her neck, watching where it dipped beneath the fabric of her dress. “I don’t know. I’m sure it’s nothing, just a simple meal with his ward.”

Gwen nodded, swallowing down her doubts. She added a hair pin in the shape of a flower to finish off Morgana’s hair. “You’re all ready.”

Morgana quirked up one side of her mouth in a sarcastic movement. “As I’ll ever be.”

The path to the dining hall seemed longer than usual, dragging on as Morgana walked. She finally reached the doors and pushed them open, hoping that by some chance Arthur was attending the meal as well. However, as she stepped inside, she found only Uther, sitting in his usual place at the head of the table.

“Morgana,” he greeted. “Come sit down.”

Morgana hesitantly took the spot at the end of the table. “Will Arthur be joining us?” she asked, the words spilling out unwittingly.

Uther’s eyes narrowed a fraction, and he shook his head. “He’s busy with his training.”

Morgana nodded; she knew that. She had only been hoping for someone to act as a buffer in case things got uncomfortable.

“I thought it would be nice to have dinner, just the two of us,” Uther explained.

Morgana pushed out a tight lipped smile. She wasn’t scared of Uther, but she could barely tolerate his presence in a crowded room, let alone in an empty one. “Of course, sire.”

Thankfully, a servant entered the room soon after, interrupting the awkward silence that had settled between guardian and ward. It wasn’t Merlin or Gwen, but Morgana smiled at them all the same, happy to have them there. The servant blushed and stumbled over his feet as he carried their plates of food. Uther shot the servant a glare, but to the servant’s good fortune, he didn’t drop anything.

Once their food was delivered, they sat in silence for a while, simply eating their meals. Morgana kept glancing at Uther, her nerves on edge. There had been a time when she had felt something akin to love for this man, but no more. He had warped and twisted her love into something darker, and it seemed that no matter what he did, it only made things worse. Being near him brought out the anger and pain held deep in her heart, and she constantly felt like screaming. It reminded her of why she had ran, and why she had stayed away for so long. Without Arthur around to reassure her, the hatred crept in, leaving her bitter.

Uther must have noticed the tense set of her shoulders, for his lips quirked up knowingly. He looked almost pleased at having bothered her, which only served to make Morgana grip her fork tighter in her fist as her muscles clenched.

Morgana slowly pushed food past her lips, breathing slowly through her nose to keep calm.

After several agonizing minutes of silence, Uther finally spoke. “I assume Arthur has told you about the disturbances in the lower town.”

Morgana cocked her head, her lips pursed tight as she took another calming breath through her nose. “Disturbances, sire?”

Sipping at this wine, he mumbled offhandedly, “There have been instances of people who have miraculously healed of incurable illnesses; didn’t he tell you?”

The way his lips curled over the words and his voice rose in pitch as he finished his sentence made Morgana uncomfortable. He wielded the mention of Arthur like a weapon, and it made her skin crawl. Nevertheless, she nodded tersely at him. “I would’ve thought the good health of your people would be cause for celebration.”

Uther chuckled darkly. “Not if it is the result of sorcery.”

Morgana bit down on the inside of her cheek. The words were unsurprising, but they bothered her all the same.

“Gaius believes that it could possibly have been done through the use of medicine, though he is still uncertain.”

“I hope he is right, for the sake of the people,” Morgana commented. The side of her mouth hurt as she talked, the wound stinging from where she had bitten the soft tissue.

Uther set down his goblet, his head tilting in a questioning movement. “What do you make of the situation, Morgana?”

She faltered, nearly dropping her fork. The metal tines clinked lightly on the edge of her plate as it slipped down through her fingers. “I-I don’t—”

“I only thought, seeing as what you went through, perhaps you would have an opinion on the matter.” He smiled at her. “You rarely lack an opinion on most things, if I recall.”

Morgana faked a smile in return. “I’m not sure what opinion I could offer on this matter, sire.”

“But you were healed in a similar way, were you not? You were pronounced dead; I saw your body. Coming back from that, I’d say that’s nothing short of miraculous.”

Morgana shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t remember how I was healed. Whatever methods used, all I know is that I am grateful for what was done. I’m sure the villagers feel the same.”

“Of course,” Uther replied, still smiling.

They ate the rest of the meal in uncomfortable silence, the air heavy around them.

\---

The next day, Arthur dragged Merlin out to train, yet again. Merlin was useless as a sparring partner, but Arthur still forced him to help him prepare for the tournament.

As the boys practiced on the training grounds, Morgana and Gwen came down from the castle to watch, Morgana’s long skirts dragging through the grass as she walked. Gwen took Morgana’s arm, looping hers through it as they moved.

Morgana was in much brighter spirits than she had been the night before. She had barely spoken to Gwen after she returned from her dinner with Uther, choosing instead to turn in for an early night’s sleep. Gwen had come the next morning, however, and immediately pulled Morgana up with a plan to go out and enjoy the day. She had refused to let Morgana be unhappy, and just that thought was enough to make Morgana feel better.

Merlin saw the girls coming and waved at them, which only served to get him a mace to the stomach.

As Merlin doubled over in pain, Morgana turned to Gwen and rolled her eyes before yelling, “Really, Arthur, must you be so hard on Merlin?”

At the sound of Morgana’s voice, Arthur’s head immediately whipped around, seeking out the source of the sound. His eyes landed on her and a smile immediately broke out on his lips. Registering her words, he shrugged. “I’m toughening him up, it’s good for him.”

With a smirk, Morgana retorted, “I think he’s tougher than you give him credit for.”

Arthur looked down at where Merlin lay moaning on the ground and lifted his eyebrows, making an unimpressed face. “I doubt that.”

Morgana shook her head, a playful smile on her lips. “Fine, I guess we’ll let you boys go back to beating each other senseless then.”

Arthur gave her a goofy grin in response, causing both of the girls to giggle. Morgana pulled Gwen over to a low wall, where they both jumped up to sit on the edge. They watched Arthur pummel Merlin until finally Merlin seemed to have had enough and Arthur dismissed him.

Merlin limped over to the girls, an obvious frown on his face.

“Oh, poor Merlin!” Gwen exclaimed, with only the slightest hint of sarcasm in her tone.

Merlin mumbled something unintelligible, followed by, “I’m sore all over.”

Gwen made a soft noise of sympathy and leaned over to kiss his cheek lightly.

As Gwen pulled away, Morgana gave Merlin a small smile, commenting, “Arthur is a big brute.”

Merlin scoffed, “You’re the one who’s in love with him.”

Morgana lifted an eyebrow and shrugged, not bothering to contest his point. “Well, he has his good aspects, I suppose.”

Merlin looked to Gwen for support, but she pursed her lips and nodded in agreement. Merlin rolled his eyes. “Thanks. Should’ve known you two would side with Arthur,” he grumbled.

“I’m sure Gaius will side with you,” Morgana chirped.

Huffing, Merlin shook his head. “He’s part of the problem. His new lady friend is staying with us, and I’ve barely gotten any sleep.”

Both Morgana and Gwen’s eyes went wide at his statement.

Merlin looked back and forth between them, realizing what he must have implied. “Oh, gross! I’ve had to sleep on the floor, since Gaius gave her my bed.”

Looking to Gwen, Morgana smirked. “Whatever you say, Merlin.”

Gwen giggled, “Good for Gaius.”

“You’re disgusting, the both of you.”

The girls continued to giggle to themselves as Merlin stalked off to his chambers, limping the whole way.

After Merlin left, a group of knights joined Arthur to practice their jousting. Morgana and Gwen moved over to the stands to watch properly, still arm in arm as they walked. They smiled and flirted with the knights as they moved past, flustering them all for fun.

Arthur was used to Morgana’s tricks by now, and he wasn’t affected. Well, not much. He had one foot in the stirrups and nearly slipped as he tried to mount his horse, but luckily he caught himself before anyone noticed.

Arthur and his knights did several runs for practice, each time switching partners. Arthur managed to thoroughly beat each of his opponents, though the knights usually got in a few hits of their own before being de-horsed.

By the time they were done, the sun was sinking low beneath the sky, and Gwen had to leave Morgana’s side to get started on her chores. Morgana let her friend go, seeking out Arthur to keep her company instead.

Arthur was removing the saddle from his horse as Morgana walked over to him. It wasn’t his job to untack his horse, the stable boys were supposed to do that, but he enjoyed it. It let him bond with his horse, building up a sense of trust, which was especially important for him when he rode the animal out into dangerous situations, like he was oft to do.

Morgana sidled up next to him, patting the horse to let it know she was there. “If you really wanted a challenge, I could’ve ridden against you. I’m quite good, you know.”

Arthur set the saddle down over the edge of a fence and turned to her, grinning. “That you are. Though, as I recall, I still managed to beat you.”

Morgana narrowed her eyes. “And crack one of my ribs.” She tossed him a brush, her eyes twinkling despite the glare.

Arthur deftly caught the brush and started smoothing it over the horse’s side. “I never properly apologized for that, did I?”

He seemed genuinely sincere, and it tugged on her heart. The glare vanished, and Morgana shook her head, smiling at him. “All is forgiven.” She grabbed a second brush from the tack box and helped to clean the horse. “I still maintain that I’m better than you, though.”

“Oh, really?” he scoffed.

She hummed, “Mm-hmm.”

Dropping his brush, he tugged her in to his side with one arm. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

Leaning in, she pressed her lips against his, murmuring, “Try me, Pendragon.”

A soft cough sounded from behind them, causing Arthur’s head to snap around in the direction of the noise.

A small stable boy stood a few feet away from them, holding a lead rope loosely in hands that were shaking, his eyes blown wide. “Sorry to interrupt, sire, but I thought, since you were finished…” He gestured towards the horse, his hands still trembling.

Morgana stepped away from Arthur, smiling at the boy. “It’s fine.” Arthur still looked annoyed at being interrupted, so Morgana elbowed him.

Arthur looked at Morgana out of the corner of his eye before clearing his throat and stepping to the side, holding out the reins for the boy to take. “Here. Take good care of him.”

The boy stumbled forward, taking the reins from Arthur. “Certainly, my lord.” He bowed awkwardly before stepping away.

Once the stable boy left, Morgana laughed quietly, amused at how they had flustered the poor child. She turned to Arthur and took his hand, tugging him towards the castle. “Come on, let’s get you out of all that armor.”

Arthur fell in step with her, willingly doing whatever she asked.

\---

In Arthur chambers, Morgana sat Arthur down on a bench and started undoing his armor for him.

“That’s Merlin’s job,” he mumbled.

“I think Merlin’s had enough for one day,” Morgana replied, her fingers deftly working at the straps connecting the pieces of metal. She removed each piece carefully, setting them on the table in front of Arthur.

As Morgana pulled off the last chunk of armor, Arthur let out a low hiss, the muscles in his shoulder aching from the movement. He bit back the normal snarky remark he would’ve used on Merlin, as he knew it wasn’t Morgana’s fault.

“Sorry,” she whispered. Once the armor was out of the way, Morgana ran her fingers along the curve of Arthur’s neck, lightly pressing against the knotted muscles under his skin. “You’re too tense.”

“Price of being a prince,” he breathed, the pain still evident in his voice.

Dipping her head down, Morgana left a slow trail of soft kisses along his shoulder. “Weight of the world,” she murmured.

Arthur let his head fall forward, his eyes closing, enjoying the feeling.

Morgana lifted her head and placed both of her hands on either side of his neck, digging her fingers in and rubbing at the sore muscles. She moved her thumbs in small circles, pressing into his skin. Occasionally Arthur would stiffen from the jolts of pain, but eventually all the tension started to dissipate and he relaxed. After she worked for a while on his shoulders, Morgana prompted him to raise his arms so she could remove his shirt.

Arthur complied, though he smirked at her as the material went over his head.

She ran her fingers along the ridges of his spine, briefly mesmerized by the motion. As she started working at the tight spots in his back, she could feel him humming with satisfaction, the vibrations running through her fingers. “You’re enjoying this far too much,” she chastised.

He shrugged, the grin on his face hidden from view.

“I don’t know why I put up with you,” she quipped, but she quickly lost her playful air. With his back bare, it revealed an assortment of purpling bruises, which made her frown. She knew that he had been training hard, but it still upset her to see the results.

Her fingers stilled, and Arthur noticed the change. “You’re thinking too hard back there,” Arthur commented, turning his head to try and get a look at her.

Morgana ignored him, bending over to drop kisses on each one of his bruises. She started at the base of his spine and worked her way back up to his shoulders, peppering his skin with the feather light touch of her lips. As she reached his neck, she felt his arm snake up around her back, pulling her forward.

Arthur yanked her off her feet, pulling her over the edge of the bench until she landed firmly in his lap, her legs spilling off the side. “You don’t need to worry so much,” he announced, the words fanning over the skin of her cheek.

Morgana adjusted herself in his hold, maneuvering so she could see his face. “Could say the same thing to you.”

“Well,” he tilted his head as he spoke, “It’s my job to look after you.”

Morgana’s eyes widened, her eyebrows raised. “You do realize that I could throw you across this room without even touching you.”

Arthur shook his head at her, a grin breaking through on his lips. “Whatever you say.”

Morgana awkwardly crossed her arms across her chest, huffing at him. “If anyone needs protecting, I think it’s you. I had to come save you on your quest, remember?”

He quickly replied, “That never happened.”

Morgana rolled her eyes at him. “Fine, but I still think I’m justified in worrying about you.”

Arthur smirked at her, knowing he wasn’t going to convince her. However, he did know how to push her buttons. Lifting a shoulder casually, he commented, “You just love me too much, I get it.”

Never one to back down from a challenge, Morgana scoffed, “I think you’re overestimating your likeability, Arthur. I simply don’t enjoy seeing you hurt, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” he questioned, his nose pressing against hers as he pulled her closer.

Morgana hummed her positive answer against his lips.

“Well that’s a shame,” he retorted. 

She cocked an eyebrow at him, smiling despite herself.

His hands slid up her back, holding her tighter. “Because I am madly in love with you,” he finished, whispering it into her mouth.

Morgana greedily sucked down his words, swallowing them whole as she moved in to capture his lips roughly with her own. 

Arthur returned the kiss eagerly, burying his hand deep in her hair to keep her with him, his fingers getting caught in the elaborate braiding. He kissed her so fiercely that it made him lose his breath, but he didn’t care.

Morgana slanted her mouth across his, tilting her head to get better access. She felt one of his hands drop to her waist, and she arched back into his touch, moving ever closer to the warmth of his body as if she were frozen solid. Her arms wound up around his shoulders and behind his neck as she pressed her tongue along the line of his lips.

Arthur’s lungs started to burn and he could see stars behind his eyes, but he couldn’t stop. He opened his mouth to her willingly, the sweet taste of her filling his senses. He kissed her long and slow, moving his tongue along the hard edges of her teeth. He could feel her lightly biting down on the flesh, but the twinge of pain only made him kiss her harder.

Eventually, Morgana, having a bit more of her brain still functioning, noticed the lack of air and broke to let them both breathe. She exhaled heavily against his cheek as she started to kiss along his jawline.

Arthur’s chest heaved as he took deep gulps of air, his hands still clasped desperately onto whatever part of her he could grab. Using his hold on her hair, he attempted to turn her mouth back towards his own, but before he could successfully manage it, a disgusted noise broke through the quiet of the room.

Morgana jumped at the sound, pulling her lips away from Arthur’s skin and clutching at his shoulders with her hands. 

Arthur groaned loudly in annoyance at having been interrupted for the second time in one day.

“I think I might be sick,” Merlin moaned from his spot in the doorway.

“You could’ve knocked,” Arthur grumbled.

“I did,” Merlin retorted. “You two lovebirds were clearly too busy to hear me.”

“Lovebirds?” Morgana chimed, feigning disbelief. Tilting her head back, she looked at Arthur and pulled a face. “I barely even like Arthur. I was just telling him so, actually.”

Arthur nodded. “It’s true.”

Merlin rolled his eyes dramatically. “Right.”

Morgana shrugged, her arms still looped around Arthur’s neck.

“Is there something you wanted, Merlin?” Arthur asked, his voice still tinged with frustration.

“I had just wanted to—” He stopped himself, distracted by the blissful happiness gleaming in Morgana’s eyes. Truthfully he had wanted to talk to her, to ask her for her opinion on Alice, but it could wait. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Arthur looked extremely annoyed; though Morgana was slightly curious, knowing Merlin well enough to guess that there was something more he wanted to say.

Merlin smiled awkwardly at them, trying not to let on anything further. When he had returned to his room, he had stumbled upon Alice talking to some strange creature, and he thought perhaps Morgana would know what it was, but he couldn’t talk about that in front of Arthur. He decided to allow them their moment and ask Sir Geoffrey for his assistance in determining the identity of the creature instead. “I’ll just… be going then.” 

"Good idea," Arthur growled, his arms winding tighter around Morgana’s waist as he glared at his manservant. 

Merlin backed away, slipping out of the door.

Morgana poked Arthur in his side as punishment for his rudeness, but she didn’t say anything to berate him for it.

Arthur smirked at her, ignoring her poke and leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Now where were we?”

“I think I was demonstrating my severe dislike of you.”

He cocked his head, raising his eyebrows at her. “And how was that going?”

“You tell me,” she murmured, before once again losing herself in his kiss.

\---

It had taken several hours to finally get Arthur to let her go the night before, but Morgana had eventually made it back to her own bed. Gwen had given her a knowing look, a plethora of teasing remarks waiting on the tip of her tongue. Morgana had preempted her maid, however, telling her quite plainly that there was nothing to share.

Gwen had nodded politely, but the grin never left her lips.

The next morning, Morgana had slept late, waking to the sun pouring into her chambers. It took her a while to remove herself from the warmth of the bedcovers, her limbs feeling heavy and her brain sluggish. However, she eventually forced herself up due to the growling in her stomach that wouldn’t abate.

Gwen must have gone to do her other morning chores, because Morgana found her room empty. She was sufficient enough on her own, though, and she pulled on a simple dress and brushed her hair before heading down to get some food from the kitchens.

She knew how to get what she needed, smiling sweetly at the cooks and batting her eyes to get warm bread and some fruit preserves to spread on it. They even gave her a bundle of grapes for good measure. She thanked them and ducked out of the kitchen, balancing her plates in her arms. It was a decent walk back to her room, and she found herself popping grapes into mouth to sate her ever-growing hunger. 

Morgana’s focus was so wholly on the plates she was carrying that she completely missed the older lady walking towards her until they had nearly collided. Morgana let out a squeal and jumped back, startled.

The plate with the grapes crashed to the floor, clattering on the tiles. Morgana stared at it as it fell, unable to stop it.

“I’m sorry,” the lady apologized as she bent down to retrieve the fruit. She was at least twice Morgana’s age, with her long gray hair tied in a braid that hung over her shoulder. Despite her age, she was still quite beautiful, and her smile was warm as she held out the plate to Morgana.

Morgana shook her head profusely, “No, it was my fault.” She took the plate, her hand brushing against the woman’s as she did. She felt a slight shock from the touch, and she looked questioningly up to the woman’s face.

“What a burden it must be, having all that power,” the woman commented, her voice a bit too loud for Morgana’s liking.

“I, I don’t—” Morgana quickly pulled her hand back, readjusting her plates. “Who are you?” she snapped, changing the subject.

“My name is Alice,” she answered with a smile. “And you don’t have to fear me, child, I understand what it’s like. I, too, have magic.”

Morgana looked over the woman, recognizing something innately familiar about her. “You…” she trailed off, the pieces slowly coming together. “You’re the one who’s been healing the townspeople, aren’t you?”

Alice dipped her head in a slow nod. “They needed help, who am I to ignore someone in need?”

Morgana’s forehead creased with worry. “You should be more careful, the king would see you put to death for that. It won’t matter that you’re doing something good, not to him.”

“Uther Pendragon does not scare me.”

Pursing her lips, Morgana processed the information. With a slow exhale of breath, she replied, “He should.”

Alice tipped her head in a show of respect, but there was something behind her eyes that unnerved Morgana.

“It was nice meeting you,” Morgana mumbled, before quickly heading back to her chambers, her skin still tingling.

\---

Arthur had another long day of training, though as usual Merlin proved useless at helping him. It took some prodding, but finally he discovered that Merlin had had a fight with Gaius, and it was dampening his mood considerably.

Arthur tried his best to cheer Merlin up, but his attempts fell flat. He wished that Gwen or Morgana were there, they’d know just the right thing to say. As it was, he couldn’t think of anything more than punching Merlin on the arm, which definitely didn’t help.

After letting Merlin go home for the day, Arthur spent the rest of the day relaxing in his room, halfway hoping that Morgana would come and visit. He forced himself not to seek her out, though, refusing to look too desperate for her company. It was bad enough that he could barely let her leave once she visited.

Once the sun began to set, Arthur gave up hope of seeing her, and ate his dinner alone. While he ate, it occurred to him that he hadn’t talked to his father in several days, which rarely ever happened. He knew that his father had summoned Morgana to dinner a few days prior, a fact that bothered him for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, but Uther had neglected to speak to his son as of late.

The realization was enough for Arthur to get up and make the trek through the castle to his father’s chambers. He may have conflicting thoughts about his father and his decisions, but despite all that, deep down he was still occasionally that small boy tugging on his father’s robes, craving approval.

Arthur knocked softly on the door to the king’s chambers. He received no answer, and after knocking several more times, opened the door, checking to see if everything was alright. “Father?” he called, but no one answered. He stepped quietly into the room, padding across the floor.

As he rounded the corner of the four-poster bed, he found his father sprawled across the floor, unmoving. Uther’s eyes were closed and his chest still, and Arthur immediately dropped to his knees, checking for signs of life. 

“Guards!” Arthur yelled, trying to alert someone. Something cold crept through his veins, the feeling akin to fear. He wasn’t ready for this; he didn’t know how to do this. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, hearing distantly the warning bells ringing as the guards alerted the castle.

Soon after, Gaius arrived, and ushered Arthur out of the room so he could inspect the king. Arthur rested against the stone wall of the corridor, taking shallow breaths, his mind reeling as he waited impatiently. Merlin rushed by, but Arthur was too far inside his own head to say anything to him.

Gaius came back out a few minutes later, with inconclusive results.

“He’s been poisoned, hasn’t he?” Arthur asked.

“I cannot say for sure,” Gaius answered. Before Arthur could protest, Gaius continued, “I don’t want you jumping to conclusions, sire. I will let you know when I find out something further.”

Arthur nodded and went back to his father’s side, still trying to sort out the mixed feelings in his head.

\---

The warning bells had sounded as Morgana was finishing her meal, and she had sent Gwen to find out what had happened.

The door to Morgana’s chambers creaked open, and Morgana’s hair spun around her shoulders as she turned around. “Gwen,” she breathed, happy that it was only her maid and not an intruder. “What’s happened?”

Gwen’s face was solemn. “It’s the king.” She took a breath. “He’s been poisoned.”

The news was shocking, especially considering Morgana herself had once tried to end the king’s life in a similar way. “Poisoned,” she mused.

“I know he has done horrible things, but to die like this…”

“Yes,” Morgana agreed. “Quite a harsh fate. Peaceful, at least, I suppose.” She wasn’t opposed to him dying by any means, but it was surprising that someone had accomplished such a feat. Her attempts had nearly cost her own life as well.

Gwen sat next to Morgana on the edge of her bed. “I wonder who’s responsible. To try and take the king’s life, that’s quite a risk. I can only imagine the person must be very foolish.”

“Or very brave,” Morgana commented. She thought back to the strange old lady she met in the hall earlier. Alice had seemed unafraid of Uther; but perhaps she had known that he would soon no longer be something to fear. 

Gwen gave Morgana a look, turning her head to better see the other girl. She chose to ignore the comment, focusing instead on something else. “I can only imagine how Arthur is feeling about all this.”

“Arthur.” The word came out as a harsh whisper, and it grated on Morgana’s vocal chords. It was easy at times to forget that Arthur was Uther’s son; it made things so much simpler to just imagine Arthur on the throne, without any obstacles. Without Uther Pendragon and his hate blocking the way. Yet Uther and Arthur were undeniably linked, and she knew all too well the pain of losing a father.

“He probably could use someone right now,” Gwen suggested.

Her bottom lip throbbed, and she released it from teeth that she hadn’t realized were biting it. “He’ll be alright.”

“Morgana…” Gwen started.

“I don’t think I’m the right one to help him with this, Gwen.”

Gwen gave her a sad smile. “I doubt he’d see it that way.”

Morgana leaned to the side and rest her head on her friend’s shoulder. She sighed heavily. “Just give me some time.”

\---

Arthur sat with his father for a long time, with Merlin at his side. He kept trying to figure out who could’ve harmed the king, but he came up with nothing.

After Arthur had exhausted all of his options, Merlin quietly admitted, “Arthur, I think—no, I know, who did this.”

Arthur’s eyes widened, and for a brief second his heart stuttered, icy terror running through his veins at the thought of the one name that would destroy him to hear.

However, Merlin accused a close friend of Gaius’s, and Arthur felt his whole body unclench at the relief.

Arthur trusted Merlin’s word, and he immediately went to arrest the woman that Merlin said was to blame. As the guards took Alice away, Arthur looked over to Gaius, finding him looking utterly broken. Arthur felt sympathy for the older man, thoughts of Morgana in chains echoing in his mind, but he didn’t have a choice. He left the room, following the guards and leaving Gaius behind.

\---

Morgana heard about the arrest and immediately went to see Arthur, her previous reservations abandoned. She slipped into his room, finding him angrily pacing around his table.

He heard the sound of the door and stopped his movements, his head snapping around to look at who had entered. “Morgana.” The word came out as a raspy noise, the sounds of his grief clouding his voice.

“I heard what happened,” she explained.

The look of relief at her presence quickly vanished and he shook his head angrily. “That woman knows the cure, I’m sure of it.”

“Arthur…”

His eyes blazed with anger as he turned on her. “Don’t tell me you support her, Morgana; I couldn’t bear it.”

Morgana bit down on her tongue, trying not to let herself be upset by him. She knew he was hurting, and her issues with Uther were not something to be discussed now. “This isn’t about me. I only meant that you should handle this rationally. It’s possible that she does not know of a cure; perhaps one does not even exist.”

Arthur let out a heavy exhale of breath. “There has to be something.” He was floundering; this was too much for him to deal with, there had to be a way to fix it. He knew deep down that people had reason to kill his father, but when faced with the impending death of his parent, he lost all sense of reason.

“Yes, perhaps there is, but harassing Alice won’t necessarily get it for you.” She knew of his outburst down in the dungeons, people had been whispering of it. It wasn’t unexpected, but he had to hold it together; she wouldn’t let him fall apart because of this.

“Alice,” he laughed harshly. “I suppose that is her name, isn’t it?” He had been so consumed with stopping his father’s death that he had failed to even ask the name of his attempted murderer.

Morgana moved closer to him, standing off to his side. Her hand hovered over his arm as she debated whether or not to touch him. 

“Morgana,” he started, looking down at her.

She pulled her hand back, dropping it to rest by her thigh.

He searched her face for something, his mind working too fast for him to fully piece together his thoughts. Yet, amongst the chatter, there was one thing that stood out; one thing he was trying to find a way to put into words.

Morgana swallowed, hoping against reason that Arthur wouldn’t ask her what she knew he was thinking.

“Could you—” He stopped, taking a breath. “Could you heal him?”

Her eyes fell shut, her fears realized. “Arthur, don’t ask this of me.”

“Please, Morgana,” he begged.

She opened her eyes slowly, reluctantly meeting his gaze. Jutting her chin out, she forcefully replied, “I can’t.”

He could read her too well, and his eyes darkened. “Can’t? Or won’t?”

She glared at him in response. He knew the risks, yet he somehow seemed to have forgotten them in favor of his father’s life. “How dare you,” she ground out through gritted teeth.

“You have the power to do it,” he retorted.

She shook her head. “I can’t, Arthur.” She couldn’t, and she wouldn’t. It didn’t matter really which it was.

Arthur’s jaw clenched and he turned his back on her, unable to say anything further.

Morgana huffed, frustrated with his inability to see the bigger picture. Her heels clicked loudly on the floor as she stomped out of his room, leaving him to sulk alone.

\---

Morgana burst into her chambers after her fight with Arthur, still slightly fuming. She stopped short as she entered however, finding that she was not alone. Merlin was awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, and it looked as if he’d been there a while.

“Gwen told me it was alright if I waited for you here,” Merlin explained, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he talked.

Morgana nodded, showing that she didn’t mind. “Is there something the matter?”

“I need your help.”

Morgana shut the door behind her, walking further into the room. “As long as you don’t expect me to heal Uther, I’ll do whatever you ask.”

Merlin’s brows furrowed, his head tilting questioningly. He could tell there was more fueling that statement by the hostility in her voice.

Morgana waved at him to show it wasn’t important.

Merlin shrugged, but still commented, “I doubt you could heal Uther even if I wanted you to. The poison is from a creature of the old religion, and I fear it has magic far more powerful than yours or mine.”

“You know what caused his illness, then?” Morgana asked.

He nodded. “That’s why I need your help.”

She started, “Merlin, you just said—”

He cut her off, elaborating, “It’s about Alice. She’s being controlled, and perhaps if we can stop the creature, we can save her.”

“As well as Uther,” Morgana added, her voice tinged with disapproval.

Merlin had the sense to look guilty, but he dipped his head in a nod. “Please, Morgana. Gaius really cares about Alice; think of what this will do to him. I know you hate Uther, but Alice is a good person. I can’t let her die for something that isn’t her fault.”

“Alright,” Morgana agreed. “What do you want me to do?”

Smiling, he asked, “What do you know about manticores?”

\---

Morgana reluctantly joined Merlin and Gaius down in the physician’s chambers to come up with a plan of action. Between her knowledge of the old religion and Gaius’s books, they were able to discover enough about the manticore to figure out a way to stop it.

“We can summon it,” Morgana explained. “If we get it here, we’ll have a chance of killing it.”

“It’s extremely powerful,” Gaius warned them. “A creature of the old religion is not something to be trifled with.”

Morgana shared a look with Merlin. They were both of the old religion; magic ran deep within their bones, and they knew all too well of the dangers of their kind. “What choice do we have?”

Merlin chimed in, stating, “Morgana’s right. If we can kill this thing, then Alice will be free. Gaius, I have to try.”

“The manticore is connected to the spirit world; it takes a great deal to sever that link.” Gaius paused, shaking his head. “You can’t call on that kind of magic, Merlin.”

Merlin looked over to Morgana. “But maybe _we_ can.”

Morgana’s lips quirked up into a slow, close-lipped smile; her eyes sparkling. She reached over and took Merlin’s hand, squeezing his fingers.

Gaius acquiesced, turning to his workbench and opening the manticore’s box. He stepped back out of the way, allowing Merlin to move closer.

Morgana’s arm stretched as Merlin moved, but she didn’t let go of his hand. Merlin held out his free hand and uttered a summoning spell. Nothing happened at first, so he repeated the spell again, louder this time. His eyes glowed bright gold and he took a step back to stand by Morgana’s side.

The three waited with bated breath, all of their eyes glued to the open box.

Suddenly, a rasping sound came from within the container, and a clawed appendage reached over the side. With a screech, the manticore pushed itself out of the box, flying at Merlin.

Morgana threw her hand out, screaming the words to a spell that would deflect the manticore’s attack. She felt a surge of power rush up from her fingertips, coming from Merlin, and as it came out through her other hand, the manticore was knocked out of the air.

The creature was only stunned for a brief moment, and it quickly attacked again.

Merlin tried to use a killing curse on the creature, but before he could speak the words, the manticore collided with his chest, knocking him off his feet.

As Merlin fell, Morgana lost her grip on his hand. Without the contact, the link between them was severed, and both were left feeling weak because of it.

“Morgana!” Merlin yelled out. The creature was fervently trying to scratch at his face and stab him with its poisonous quills, but Merlin was holding it at a distance, trying his best to keep it away.

Morgana tried to use a spell, but she wasn’t strong enough and the manticore barely flinched. 

Merlin continued to struggle on the floor, the manticore relentlessly continuing to attack.

Morgana spun towards Gaius, desperately seeking his advice. Her hair whipped wildly around her face, and eyes were wide and filled with fear. “It’s too strong!”

Gaius looked from Morgana to Merlin, and then back to the box on the table. “The box!” he exclaimed. “It’s what connects it to the spirit world, we have to break it!”

Morgana looked over to the box questioningly.

Merlin was still thrashing around, but he had heard them talking. “Morgana,” he gasped, “Smash the box!”

Morgana held up a shaking hand, the sounds of the manticore hissing throwing off her concentration. The magic inside of her was slowly building, and she could feel it thrumming through her veins. She closed her eyes tightly, shutting out the rest of the world. Everything else fell away, and she focused only on completing the spell. 

The manticore’s hissing stopped, and Merlin felt the weight lift from his chest as the creature moved.

With a final word, Morgana’s eyes glowed, and the box started to crack, the seams filling with a brilliant white light. The cracks expanded, until soon the whole room exploded with light. The box burst into pieces, and Morgana shielded her face until it was finished.

The manticore let out a loud roar and charged at Morgana, but before it could reach her, the effects of losing its tether to the spirit world caught up to it. The manticore made a noise that sounded vaguely like it was choking, and after a minute of struggling to move, it exploded just as the box had done.

Morgana let out a triumphant yell, grinning widely at their success.

“We did it,” Merlin breathed as he stood from the floor. 

Gaius smiled at the two young sorcerers, feeling a sense of pride. “That you did.”

\---

With the manticore dead, Uther quickly recovered from his brush with death. Arthur was relieved, but Morgana’s main concern was saving Alice. Morgana ran up from Gaius’s chambers and found Arthur in his room, wasting no time in explaining everything that had happened. Despite his disapproval at her fighting an ancient monster without telling him, Arthur understood. He agreed that Alice was innocent and immediately regretted the way he had treated her.

Once Uther was awake, Arthur told him of the situation, and suggested that they drop the charges against Alice, since she was merely a pawn in the manticore’s plot.

“Absolutely not,” Uther snapped. “That woman poisoned me; she will be executed at dawn for her crimes against the kingdom.”

“Father,” Arthur implored, “She was being controlled; her intent was never to harm you. She didn’t have a choice.”

“She practiced magic, Arthur,” Uther stated, as if that explained everything.

“Because she was forced to do so! I understand that what she did was wrong, but you must consider the circumstances. Please, I do not believe her to be an enemy of Camelot.”

Uther shook his head. “It does not matter why she did it. She broke the law, and her use of magic nearly cost this kingdom their king.”

“Killing this woman is a mistake. Father, please, see reason,” Arthur begged.

“Do not question me, Arthur,” Uther barked. “She used magic. There is no circumstance under which that is acceptable.”

Arthur stared at his father in disbelief, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he struggled to contain his anger.

Uther waved his hand at the guards in the room, ignoring Arthur. “Prepare the pyre for the execution.”

“This is wrong,” Arthur growled under his breath.

Uther continued to ignore his son, and Arthur eventually stormed off, disgusted with his father’s decision.

\---

Arthur went to break the news to Morgana, entering her chambers with a heavy heart.

Morgana turned from the window as Arthur shut the door behind him. She could tell from the look in his eyes that he was upset. “He’s not going to free Alice, is he?” she asked, knowing the answer.

Arthur shook his head angrily. “You were right all along, Morgana. He hasn’t changed; he never will.”

Morgana closed the distance between them, gathering up his hands and taking them into hers. “I’m sorry, Arthur.”

“I had lost sight of who he really was. I just, I had so hoped—”

“I know,” Morgana stopped him, squeezing his hands. “You don’t have to explain it to me.”

Arthur’s head fell forward, his forehead resting heavily against the crown of her head. “I was wrong to ask you to heal him. If you had used magic on him, there’s no telling what he would’ve done.”

“He would’ve killed me,” Morgana murmured.

Arthur shook his head, rubbing against her hair. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing out her name, “Morgana…”

She knew it hurt him, but he had to understand the reality of their situation. “He would, Arthur, and he will, if he has reason.”

Arthur lifted his head and looked down into her bright green eyes. “I realize now just how vicious he truly is. I won’t forget that again.”

Morgana rose up on her toes, leaning in to gently kiss his lips. As she broke the kiss, she tucked her head under his chin, snuggling into his chest.

Arthur wrapped his arm around her, stroking her hair softly as he held her.

\---

The next day was the day of the jousting tournament, and though it was a small affair for once, the citizens of Camelot were still excited. Though while there was sport to be enjoyed, there was another event to take place that day that was less celebrated. The joust was to be held in the afternoon, but Alice’s execution was to be in morning.

Morgana had tried to comfort Merlin, but she knew that he felt partly responsible, and that his guilt wouldn’t be easily assuaged. Arthur had basically forbidden Morgana to free Alice, and Gaius had given Merlin a similar talk. There was too much at stake, and while they wanted Alice to live, they both agreed to listen this time.

However, despite their promises to remain uninvolved, by late morning, they both heard the warning bells and the news of Alice’s surprising escape. No one seemed to know how it had been done, but it was clear, Alice was long gone.

Morgana was thrilled, as was Merlin. Merlin shared the news with Gaius, who simply smiled knowingly in reply.

Feeling much lighter, Morgana went to visit Arthur before the tournament. She brought with her a deep purple colored strip of material to bestow on him as her favor. As she reached his door, she opened it a crack, peering in around it. She saw Merlin helping Arthur dress, and she bit her lip to hold in her smile. “May I come in?” she asked.

Both boys turned to face her, Merlin still gripping Arthur’s chainmail in his hands. Merlin was slightly startled by her presence, though the prince didn’t seem the least bit surprised. Instead of looking uncomfortable, Arthur’s face simply split into a huge grin. 

“Of course,” Arthur answered, beckoning her inside.

Morgana returned his smile, stepping all the way into the room. Her eyes scanned over the array of armor laid out on the table, and as she walked by she lightly dragged her fingers over the pieces of metal.

Arthur was content to stand and watch her, the small movements of her wrist as she flicked her fingers over the buckles on his gorget suddenly fascinating to him.

Merlin cleared his throat to get their attention, asking quietly, “Is there something you needed, Lady Morgana?”

Morgana lifted her head, tilting it in a delicate move as she met Merlin’s gaze. A smirk bloomed on her lips and she stated, “I came to wish my champion good luck.”

Arthur’s grin grew impossibly wider, and he chuckled softly at her. “I’m not champion yet, Morgana.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “But you will be, of course.”

“Of course,” Arthur echoed, his usual cocky attitude bleeding through.

Merlin rolled his eyes and started to yank Arthur’s hauberk over his head.

Arthur grumbled angrily through the metal, but as his head emerged through the top, his smile was back in place once more.

Morgana laughed brightly, picking up a piece of armor from the table. “I think I can handle the rest, Merlin.”

Merlin looked at her questioningly, reluctant to leave his duties.

Morgana shooed him along, letting out another laugh. “Don’t worry, Merlin, I’ll take good care of him,” she promised.

Merlin took another look at Arthur’s ridiculous happy expression and shook his head, leaving Morgana to deal with the idiot on her own.

Picking up the nearest plate of metal, Morgana set to work covering Arthur in his armor. She placed the gorget around his neck and tightened the straps around his back, carefully layering each chunk of armor until everything was in place.

Her fingers were quick and nimble, and he barely felt her movements as she worked. “You’re quite good at this,” Arthur commented. “I might have to fire Merlin and give his job to you instead.”

She giggled, smirking at the thought. “You’d be miserable without Merlin and you know it. Besides, you’d never get me to do all your washing.”

Arthur chuckled at her. “No, I don’t think I would.”

Morgana finished assembling his armor and stepped back to assess her work. 

“Not bad,” Arthur quipped, stretching his arms to test that everything was comfortable.

“Just one more thing,” Morgana noted. She pulled out the strip of fabric she had brought and tied it around his upper arm. Smiling at her finished work, she told him, “Now you’re sure to win.”

Arthur shook his head, still grinning like his face might split. “Because you’ll be with me?” he asked.

“Because I don’t give my favor to just anyone,” she murmured.

Arthur nodded. “So I have no choice but to win, I suppose. Wouldn’t want to insult your honor.”

“No, we wouldn’t want that,” Morgana agreed sarcastically. She leaned up and placed a kiss on underside of his jaw. As she pulled back, she whispered, “I’ll see you at the feast.”

Arthur watched her go, his hand reflexively reaching over to touch the ends of the purple fabric on his arm.

\---

As the sun rose up to its highest point in the sky, the people of Camelot started to pour into the stadium for the joust. Since Arthur was participating in the tournament, Morgana was left to sit with only the King, which she knew wouldn’t make for an enjoyable afternoon. Uther was angrier than ever now that Alice had escaped, and for some reason, his ire seemed to be directed at Morgana.

Choosing to ignore him the best she could, Morgana focused on the knights as they entered. She could feel the heated glare on her back every once in a while, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of acting as though it bothered her. She had done nothing wrong, in truth, and she wouldn’t let his rage cause her any discomfort. 

As Arthur rode in, Morgana stood up and cheered wildly with the rest of the crowd. She knew it wasn’t exactly ladylike, but she didn’t care. She spotted Gwen and Merlin down in the stands, seeing that they were cheering as well. She smiled over at them, catching Gwen’s eye. Gwen waved happily at her, poking Merlin to get him to wave as well.

Morgana laughed at her friends as she sat back down to watch the matches. The joust went on for several hours, all of the knights performing admirably. 

Arthur of course was doing extremely well, outshining all of his opponents. As he finished one of his rounds, he looked over to Morgana, touching the fabric on his arm meaningfully as he tipped his head at her.

Morgana smiled coyly down at him, silently wishing him luck— not that he needed it. 

After a few more rounds, Arthur faced off with his last opponent. As the horses rode at full speed towards each other, Arthur lifted his lance, positioning it at his rival’s heart. He went by for the pass, and with expert precision, hit his target dead center. The opposing knight went flying off his horse, hitting the ground in a cloud of dust.

The crowd flew to their feet, everyone cheering wildly. The prince was once again victorious, making his people proud.

Arthur did a lap around the stadium to celebrate his victory, playing it up for his adoring fans. As he finished his lap, he pulled up by the stands, dismounting from his horse.

Morgana stood from her seat and moved to the edge of the stands to greet Arthur, leaning over the wooden barrier. “My champion,” she called, smiling happily at him.

Arthur grinned that ridiculous grin of his as he met her, the one that seemed to be a permanent fixture these days. Adrenaline was singing in his blood, and as he looked at her beautiful face smiling down at him, he lost all self-control. He reached up and slipped his hand behind her neck, pulling her in to meet him. Without a moment’s hesitation, he swept her lips up into a searing embrace, kissing her deeply.

The crowd cheered twice as loud at the sight, the sounds ringing like a dull roar in Arthur and Morgana’s ears.

Morgana immediately sunk into the kiss, forgetting about all the people around them. There was nothing but her and Arthur, the rest of the world be damned.

Distantly they could hear Uther clearing his throat, but they ignored him, enjoying the moment while it lasted.

\---

At the feast that night, everyone was in bright spirits. Half the court could barely contain themselves after the show Arthur and Morgana had put on earlier.

Arthur and Morgana were coming down from their blissful high, but they kept exchanging amused glances throughout the meal, and quite often Arthur’s hand would find Morgana’s under the table. Normally they would sit on opposite sides of the king, but Arthur had situated himself next to Morgana tonight, finding it amusing to further the gossip.

Just as Morgana was prepared to kick Arthur to get him to wipe that goofy love struck look off his face, she heard a voice calling out her name.

“Morgana.” The voice seemed far away, but it sounded so familiar.

She whipped her head around, scanning the banquet hall for the source. Everyone was immersed in their meals, and no one else seemed to have noticed.

“Morgana, please!” the voice screamed.

The words felt like they were exploding inside her skull, and Morgana clutched at her ears, pain suddenly shooting through her head. She shut her eyes, and as she did, she felt her whole body rock with a jolt as images bombarded her mind. She saw a camp deep in the woods, the trees around it all on fire, and people inside screaming. The fire was consuming everything, but through it all, she saw a boy with dark hair and piercing blue eyes staring back at her. He was screaming her name, begging for her help as the flames swallowed him whole.

Morgana’s eyes flew open, the images still fresh in her mind. She gasped for air, her entire body shaking. As her vision cleared, she realized that all she could see was Arthur’s arms around her, shielding her from prying eyes.

Arthur was whispering soothing words into her hair, holding her as she calmed. Morgana took a deep breath and pulled away, smiling like nothing had happened.

Though Arthur had hidden her from the court, one person had seen everything. Uther sipped his wine, eyeing Morgana carefully, with a dark and strangely pleased expression on his face.


	10. Queen of Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thanks to Erica, my wonderful ghostwriter who put up with me throughout the past year-- and despite me occasionally scrapping chunks of her hard work, or taking months to edit stuff, or rewriting whole scenes because I'm so particular-- she has stuck by me and this fic. I cannot express how grateful I am for her: my co-writer, my cheerleader, and this fic's biggest fan :)

After the festivities had run themselves into the ground, Morgana thought it best to retire to her chambers. Phantoms of Uther's smug expression flew around inside her head. Morgana presented herself as unawares, but she wasn't blindsided so easily. What chilled her fingertips was not Uther's pleasure at her expense, but his odd acceptance of her pain during the feast. Morgana's contemplations took all of her attention and she was startled to have arrived at her door so quickly.

Sensing someone within her room, Morgana had half a mind grab the nearest weapon. However, the detection of someone familiar lowered her defenses and the tension in her shoulders lessened. Morgana opened the door and found Arthur lounging on one of her chairs. 

As soon as she entered, she found his expression to be conflicting, with concern and curiosity at war on his face. She knew what to do to ease his confusion; she glided over to Arthur, positioning herself on his lap as she brought a hand to his cheek. 

He spoke softly afraid his voice would break the air. "Morgana... what happened during the feast? Thankfully I managed to hide most of your shaking, but I'm afraid that my father caught on."

Morgana was agitated to catch the tone of self-righteousness in his voice, but chose to disregard it because his concern was genuine. Morgana shifted her weight backwards to stand. The idea of sitting anymore made her feel closed in like a stalled horse. 

Sensing her growing tension Arthur stood up as well, bracing himself for whatever came next. He was prepared to hold her tight in comfort, or restrain her from wreaking havoc. 

Morgana, the usually proactive one in the pair, seemed at an utter loss. "I don't know."

Arthur took that as permission to act, and surrounded her in himself. She resisted slightly, fighting his grasp, but Arthur just buried her even deeper into his arms. He whispered airily into the strands of her hair, "You're still holding back."

Morgana didn't have an answer; just an impulse to fight. She sighed deeply. "Arthur, don't let your big head believe for one second that this has anything to do with you. I love you, you know that. I'm not fighting you, I'm fighting myself."

The reassurance seemed to wake the slightly slumped prince. "And I love you, Morgana; that should be incentive enough for you to answer my question. What the hell happened at the feast?"

The consternation dripped from his voice. Morgana was sick of hiding things. She loved Arthur and for that reason, to really mean her vow, she had to be open. Now was not the time to shut him out, despite her reservations.

Mustering up an inhale, Morgana said, "I had a vision. It was Mordred. Arthur, I could hear it in his voice, he's in trouble."

Arthur wasn't sure how to react; he hated seeing what visions could do to Morgana, but he had a deep wariness of Mordred. He shivered slightly as he remembered how much sway the young boy had over Morgana. He did not want a repeat of the last incident, especially where Morgana openly lied to him, so he was cautious. "Morgana, what did you see?"

Morgana replied, "It was a camp encircled by fire. People were screaming... it was horrible. And then, I heard Mordred's voice, begging for help." 

Arthur considered the words carefully. "I understand. What do you want to do? It's your call."

Morgana was taken with his willingness to listen, and not take charge. "I need to find him, and then warn him before it's too late. I won't let anything harm that child, Arthur." The defiance emanated from her as she spoke.

Arthur found her resolve quite endearing, and couldn't help himself, the urge to kiss her suddenly overwhelming. He quickly swept her up into his arms, despite her resistance, and set her down on the bed. Before she could protest further, he crawled over her, leaving kisses along her cheek. 

She let out a low laugh as he nibbled at the tip of her ear. The laugh evolved into a hardy shriek as he ventured to the base of her jaw, leaving bite marks. 

Morgana clasped his face between her hands and turned his head to meet her gaze. She gently pulled him down to rest just above her lips. He shut his eyes and began to close the gap, but before he could get any closer, he found himself on the floor.

Morgana had taken advantage of his closed eyes, and pushed him off of the bed. He gave her an expression of mock hurt, but Morgana wasn't fooled. She dismounted from the bed and landed on top of him with a hearty groan from Arthur.

Arthur whined, "You know, for someone who says they love me, this isn't a good way to show it." 

Morgana smirked wickedly. "Turnabout's fair play, is it not?" She lowered her head, and scorched Arthur's lips with a fiery kiss. 

Arthur was still out of breath, but after a moment he returned the kiss.

Morgana bit down on his lip, pulling back just enough to murmur, "Stop trying to distract me."

Failing miserably to contain a laugh, Arthur pressed his lips forcefully into hers once more, ignoring her complaint.

All composure abandoned long ago, the pair resigned themselves to the whims of lust. They did this better than actually talking. Eventually, Morgana's motions because less sensual, and it took awhile for Arthur to catch on, but he eventually relented, allowing her to stand. 

Compromising on a half hearted apology from Morgana, and a final kiss, Arthur was satisfied. "So this grand plan of yours, you plan on letting me in on it?"

Morgana rolled her eyes. "I don't have any plan, I told you, I just want to warn him somehow."

"And does this warning require you putting yourself in danger?"

She decided not to answer that. "Get some rest," she ordered. "We'll talk about it in the morning."

Arthur sighed, trying once more, "You know, I could be useful."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she trilled, smiling demurely.

He tugged her close one last time and murmured against her hair, "Don't do anything stupid."

Morgana pushed him off gently, making no promises. "Stay here then. You can watch over me."

He reluctantly trailed after her as she tugged him towards the bed, and as they laid down, Morgana curled up into his side, her mind still resonating with echoes of screams.

\---

Morgana never really fell asleep that night. The visages of Mordred bathed in tears of fear and the accompanying screams proved too much. The evening was still, as if holding its breath until Morgana burst. Morgana could feel the flames threatening to spill over Mordred's skin, and hear his pounding heart. That little boy, the boy whose life she treasured was in danger, and it was unacceptable.

Turning her head to peer at the prince slumbering next to her, Morgana laughed bitterly to herself knowing fully well that Arthur didn't approve of her affection towards the boy. He would think even less of her reckless trek into the woods following a mere vision, but her pondering had already taken up too much time already. 

Carefully unwinding herself from the blankets, Morgana darted from the bed. The last thing she wanted was to awaken Arthur. Although Arthur was a notorious heavy sleeper, no risks could be taken. She looked to the window and took note that the depths of night were thankfully warded off by the moon, allowing her a hazard free walk. 

Hastily, Morgana rummaged through her drawers. Coming across her chain mail, Morgana slipped on the armor and attached her sheathed sword to her waist. Silently weaving her hair into a simple bun and making sure all fastenings were secure, Morgana took one last look at Arthur. Savoring a small smile at Arthur snoring soundly, Morgana took that pleasant scene with her as she exited the room.

More than anything Morgana wanted to employ a transportation spell, or at least what she could manage of one, but that would be risky, especially with Uther nearby. She couldn't give the maniacal man anymore reason to doubt her. Settling upon old fashioned sneaking, Morgana crept forward, swimming through the copious shadows. Morgana was set to turn a corner when her attention was caught by the crunching of metal boots and the clanging of armor customary of a guard. Biting her tongue in frustration, Morgana backed up against the wall and forced herself to strategize.

She had two options-- to engage the guards head on, which would entail risking innocent lives, or the one that she preferred which was causing a distraction. Comfortably settling on the latter, she reached out with her magic. Latching on to a decorative suit of armor, Morgana's magic ricocheted off of the smooth surface and down towards the floor, bringing the armor crashing down with it. Feeling the guard jump at the sudden commotion and charge to the source, Morgana wasted no time in scurrying across the hallway and down a few staircases.

Sensing the presence of more guards rushing to reinforce their comrades, Morgana ducked behind a display and waited for the forces to pass. Breathing in, Morgana swept out of her hiding spot and hurried to the closest window. Glancing down, Morgana gaged the distance from the castle to the stone courtyard waiting below, and decided to take her chances. 

Quietly unlatching the window, Morgana lifted herself over the ledge and plunged head first into the night air. Suddenly time slowed, and Morgana was able to end her descent with a flourishing tuck and roll. Nimbly landing on her feet, Morgana set out in a sprint to reach the stables. 

The whines of the approaching horses and the thump of her footsteps carried Morgana forward as her silver steed caught her eye. Arriving at her horse's side Morgana leapt over the fence and plucked the saddle and bridle from the rack to her right. Morgana set to work readying her horse for the journey ahead.

Morgana exhaled, releasing all of her tumbling anxieties as she mounted the mare and kicked her in the sides. Not missing a beat, the horse jumped over the stable barrier and galloped across the expansive courtyard.

Reaching the imposing gates that served as the entrance of the city, Morgana was stupefied to find the main gate left open and unguarded. Something tasted strange as she breathed in, and Morgana knew the lack of protection for the city was a matter of questioning, but Mordred needed her. Her other concerns could wait a few hours.

Casting one last glance at the kingdom of Camelot, Morgana abandoned every reservation at the boundary point and rode out into the woods.

The ride was calm and the only noise was the occasional rustling of plants. Morgana continued for a few hours until it became evident that her horse was tiring from the prolonged effort. For the past hour Morgana had desperately been calling for her premonition to return, but to no avail. Gently sliding off of the horse and leading her to a gurgling pond, Morgana sat down on the damp grass to renew her efforts.

Morgana closed her eyes, and strained. Nothing, not even a whisper. Scoffing at her ineptitude, Morgana knelt down to retrieve a handful of water when her ear drums burst. An orchestra of cries erupted. Morgana fell onto her elbows into the water and grabbed her head.

Morgana closed her eyes, and breathed deep. After a few agonizing moments, Morgana deciphered the ramblings. 

The voice of the boy spoke, "Morgana! Help me! Morgana! Morgana!" Morgana's heart broke. She wanted nothing more than to respond, to give the boy hope, but she knew better. 

The voice wasn't an actual telepathic current, but merely a psychic echo of last night. Following instinct to wherever the voice came from, Morgana hurriedly mounted her horse. As she turned towards the source of the voices, she let her magic guide her, setting a course through the forest. She rode harder and faster as the voice became clearer in her head.

Hoofbeats resounded through the trees, dirt flying from the quick impact with the earth. Morgana's head was pounding, but as she reached the clearing, the noises started to subside, and a wave of calm washed over her.

She dismounted from her horse and tied her to an oak tree. The echoes were fading, but the hair on her neck began to stand on end.

Closing her eyes to focus, Morgana listened and caught the new words bouncing through her head. 

"Do not come any further. We are a peaceful people, but those who align themselves with Uther Pendragon are not welcome here. Turn around and I give you my word that you will be permitted safe passage." 

Morgana scrunched her face in confusion. Mordred was the only one she knew capable of direct telepathy. The person contacting her must be powerful, but she stood her ground. "I mean you no harm. I'm here to help."

No one responded to her plea. Tempering her anger, Morgana reminded herself of how important her mission was. The safety of the boy came before any petty taunts. Her hand instinctively crept onto the delicate handle of her sword as she proceeded forward.

Morgana narrowed her eyes and let them trace the surrounding landscape, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Either the Druids knew nothing of defensive measures or she was walking right into a trap. As she moved forward, she realized it was the latter, as the presence of multiple others suddenly made themselves known.

Morgana was quickly surrounded, and she forced herself to remain calm. "Please," she pleaded, "I've come to warn you."

"Warn us? Sounds like a threat," a voice called out.

"I am no friend of Uther Pendragon's, I can promise you that," Morgana tried. "I'm trying to protect you, not hurt you."

An older man stepped forward, his dark eyes questioning. "We need no protection here. Why would you come, other than to expose us?"

Morgana's insides burned, but she pushed down her frustration. These people were her only lead to Mordred, and she needed their help. Taking a deep breath, Morgana looked up again. "As I said, I am here to offer a warning. I had a vision. Your camp was engulfed in flames, and I saw--" She stopped, sensing a familiar pull, and she looked up to see a dark haired boy through the low hanging fog. He had gotten taller, and his face had sharpened a bit with age, but those eyes were still the same.

"Let her pass, she's a friend," the boy called.

Morgana could feel her pulse quicken with excitement at the prospect of being reunited with Mordred. Her stony face melted into an expansive smile as she saw the boy pushing through the crowd. As soon as he was in reach, Morgana leapt forward and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Morgana! You're here!"

Instantaneously, Morgana answered, "Yes, I'm here. I've missed you so much."

With that sentiment, the pair tightened the hug, almost afraid to let the other go. Morgana sighed as she drew apart from the wiry young boy. Playfully she ruffled the long bangs that swooped onto his forehead. 

Remembering the task at hand, Morgana turned to address the crowd of Druids. "I apologize for the the intrusion, my concern for the boy clouded my judgement. Please heed my warning, you must prepare, you are all in danger."

As her short speech faded into nonexistence Morgana was baffled by the following reaction. The people were laughing. 

"Why are you laughing? Your lives are in peril. Do you not believe me?" 

The older man shuffled forward. "My lady, I do appreciate the honest concern for our wellbeing; I must admit I expected far less from the ward of Uther, but I'm afraid you are mistaken. Amongst our ranks are some of the best seers to grace the soil of Albion, and we have an entire arsenal of defenses. I fear your worries have fallen upon deaf ears."

Morgana shook her head vehemently. "You're the ones who are mistaken. My visions are never wrong. This will come to pass. I beg of you, don't cast aside my advice as nothing." 

The leader seemed surprised by the desperate tone to her request. His face stiffened as he considered the possibility. Ultimately he relented, and the old man's eyes cleared as he spoke. "I will not deny that I hold reservations, but I will at least take extra measures as a precaution. I thank you for your presence and your show of good faith."

The man bowed deeply and Morgana returned the gesture. It wasn't exactly the reaction that she had been hoping for, but she supposed it would have to suffice. At least it wasn't a complete defeat. 

Morgana smiled at the gathering of her kin and turned to Mordred once more. Pulling him into one last hold before her depature, she whispered, "Stay safe. I couldn't bear the thought of you getting hurt. Promise me you'll be careful."

Mordred muttered, "I promise."

Morgana chuckled at the exasperated edge to the young lad's tone as she offered one last squeeze.

With that, Morgana retreated to her horse, and after positioning herself astride it, allowed herself one more backward gaze before she departed. Back to the mighty walls of Camelot she went.

\---

The ride back to Camelot was less than pleasant. Almost all the clouds had disappeared, and the heat of the sun was sweltering, which didn't help Morgana's mood. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach and gnawed at her. Something sinister was making its way into the future and Morgana couldn't help but feel there was no avoiding what would come to pass.

She couldn't understand why the Druids were so flippant about her warning. The events surrounding her vision were too convenient to be a coincidence. Time flew as Morgana worked to connect the dots, and she was startled to find herself approaching the outer walls of Camelot. 

Approaching the massive gate which had been suspiciously closed since her departure, Morgana was surprised to find it latched into its pens deep within the dirt. As it was the only thing keeping her from getting home, Morgana impatiently ground her teeth waiting for the attendants to raise the barrier. As the gate crept upwards, Morgana was filled with a surge of energy and bolted through the gap created between the gate and ground. 

The wooden shacks and rugged clothing surrounding her changed into stack stone fortresses and silk garments as Morgana neared the castle. Once she was close to the castle steps Morgana hoisted herself off in a swift motion to see her next objective met. She left her horse to be tended to by one of the many servants floating through the spacious courtyard waiting for work. Taking the steps two at a time Morgana glanced up to the window she stared through so often. The curtains remained fastened together to ward off any sunlight, which meant Arthur was still asleep.

Ducking into servant's passageways and cutting corners Morgana managed to reach her quarters in what she thought of as record time. Even Arthur would have been envious of her efficiency-- god knows he spent more time in her chambers than his own.

Morgana gently tugged the door open and murmured a noise dampening spell when shutting it. Expertly peeling off her chainmail Morgana was left in nothing but her shift and was faced with a dilemma.

On one hand exhaustion had taken to pulling her eyelids down, making sleep an easy option, but on the other she was coated in an uncomfortable film of sweat and dirt. The idea of sleeping and polluting a clean bed with her stench didn't sound too appealing, as she wasn't one to disregard hygiene-- unlike many of Camelot's finest knights.

Seeing as Arthur was sleeping she didn't find the harm in bathing, and she fetched some water from a basin and splashed it into the tub.

Anxiety reared its ugly head once more as she was left with nothing to occupy her thoughts. The wave of worry was threatening to crush her as she removed her shift and climbed into the wash. The water proved to be soothing and managed to carry her worry away as she took care to descum her body.

Morgana dipped her head below the surface to retreat further into herself. The water swirled across her hair and she felt almost content. Little did she know her prince had been roused from his coma-like slumber in the adjoining room.

Arthur had heard multiple noises originating from the antechamber, but he shook his head to clear it, as he was still groggy. He wanted nothing more than to ignore it, but his instincts were usually right. He swiped his sword from the nightstand and threw the sheets off as he climbed out of bed. Arthur inched his way forward analyzing the situation as he went. He scolded himself for allowing a stranger to cross the threshold. Morgana was right, nothing could wake him. He cursed under his breath, if an intruder stole or broke anything he would never hear the end of it. Arthur was determined more than ever to catch the culprit as he didn't want to face Morgana's wrath. Carefully turning the corner to Morgana's innermost chamber, Arthur poised himself ready to strike when he saw something that left his sword crashing into the floor. Arthur squeaked, "Morgana!"

Before him was the last woman he expected-- and in the bath, nonetheless. Morgana had been attempting to stand, but she shrieked at his intrusion, and in her frenzy, fell backwards. Arthur stood there with a gaping mouth and bulging eyes for quite some time until he had the decency to shield his eyes. Subsequently he felt as if he couldn't turn a deeper shade of red.

Morgana's continuous exclamations of unladylike language shook some sense into him as he turned around, albeit with difficulty. He shuffled back to the bed and trained his eyes on the floor, as he didn't trust them to look anywhere else.

Morgana had composed herself rather quickly, but humiliation left its mark on her cheeks. When the color drained enough, Morgana took a deep breath, and called out, "Arthur, I have nothing to change into over here, and it's getting quite chilly, so I would very much like to put on some clothes. If you can be trusted to keep your eyes closed, that is?"

Arthur didn't even trust himself, and he didn't feel like finding out how it felt to be thrown from a palace window. Keeping his best interests at heart, Arthur chose to leave.

Morgana smirked as she heard the gentle sound of a door closing. She knew him too well. She giggled in amusement as she robed herself.

Satisfied with the amount of time she had allocated for Arthur to sulk, Morgana donned a night gown and sought him out. Not waiting to knock or call out, Morgana entered to the sight of Arthur lying on his bed. He obviously fell asleep in a hurry as his covers remained undisturbed beneath his lying figure. Sprawled all over his desk were pieces of parchment boasting messy ink passages crossed out haphazardly. Morgana plucked a few from the surface and smiled to herself as she saw many variants of an apology letter. Morgana's heart thrummed against her chest at the thought of him caring enough to write a letter. The ones she liked best, she folded and stowed away into the overlaps of her dress to keep for later. 

Gliding forward, Morgana knelt before Arthur and rustled the hair resting on his forehead. His eyes sprung open with a panicked delirium until they focused on her. Morgana purred, "Up you get. I hear Uther is expecting you in the council room for a briefing."

Arthur shot up from his position and frantically began collecting random articles of clothing and scribbled nonsense down on a lone pad of parchment. Morgana's hearty chuckles broke through Arthur's frenzy. He turned around and faced Morgana with a look of agitation. "There's no council meeting is there?" He already knew the answer but felt like inquiring anyway. 

Still laughing, Morgana nodded with difficulty to contain her laughter.

"And may I ask why you felt the need to do this? Oh, let me guess-- you like having me play the fool." 

Morgana stopped nodding but continuing chuckling,"You deserved it."

Arthur covered his face in his hand and started for the door muttering to himself quite audibly. Morgana watched Arthur cross the floor and queried, "And where do you think you're going?" 

Arthur looked at her with annoyance written on his face, "I'm going to make sure this isn't some elaborate ploy to embarrass me in front of my father and the entire council. I wouldn't put you above such schemes." 

Morgana blew a stray hair from her chin with an exaggerated huff, "Believe it or not, I actually came here for a reason." 

Arthur sensed what she was getting at and moved over to the bed, pulling her down along side him. "Besides waking me up, quite rudely I might add--" Arthur earned a sharp elbow in the side, "what do you need to talk about?" 

"You didn't mind when I woke you up the first time," she deflected.

"Morgana," he chastised, the blush creeping through despite his determination.

Morgana stayed silent, and he searched her face. He knew she must have gone to look for the boy last night. "This must have to do with Mordred, I assume you went to look for him?" At her guilty look, he sighed, "What happened?" 

Morgana swallowed hard and turned to look at Arthur. "I went to warn them, but something was wrong, they didn't seem wary in the slightest."

Arthur sat and listened intently. He worked Morgana's words through his brain and considered what could have happened. Clearly she had taken a risk despite his warning, but he figured he wasn't one to pass judgement when it came to making reckless decisions.

"I guess I just don't understand how with all of their powerful seers, none of them saw what I did. It doesn't make sense. What do you think?"

Those were the words Arthur was dreading. He didn't want the responsibility of quelling Morgana's unease, it was a heavy task. Inhaling deeply, Arthur responded, "I truly don't know, perhaps you saw this vision for a reason, or maybe they really aren't as powerful as they say. But what I do know is that I believe in you and your magic; your visions have kept me out of many sticky situations before. Relax, I'm sure it will all work out."

Arthur's consideration caused Morgana to grin slightly. Although his words did little to make her feel better, she was still thankful for him. "Arthur, have I told you I love you?" 

"Once or twice." He smiled mischievously.

"Well, I suppose one more time couldn't hurt. I do love you, Arthur Pendragon, and I wouldn't have any other at my side." 

The following silence was comfortable, and it allowed for Morgana's words to play over again in Arthur's mind. He couldn't help but remember the thoughts he had over a year ago, before Morgana had disappeared, and whether or not she'd be willing to take the next step. Images of Morgana accented in white with a bouquet in hand motivated his next question. Before he could broach the rather frightening topic, Arthur was interrupted by his door being thrown open, followed by the entrance of a knight.

"My lord, the King demands your presence. It seems we have finally located the Druids that we've been searching for." 

Following the guards abrupt exit, Arthur and Morgana exchanged glances screaming a million emotions. The world loved to prove him wrong.

\---

At the news, Morgana rushed towards the door, and Arthur barely caught her in time before she could send the throne room crashing down. Using her own momentum against her, Arthur swung Morgana back into his room. 

While Morgana brushed herself off, Arthur made quick work with securing the door. Clasping Morgana by the shoulders, Arthur led her to a chair and watched her sit down, glaring at him all the while.

"What was that?"

Releasing an exasperated sigh, he responded, "That was me saving your skin, and you're welcome by the way!"

Morgana gave a hearty huff. "You want me to thank you, when every moment we're here, the Druids are closer to being killed. These are innocent people-- my people, and they need help!"

"Of course I know that Morgana, but if it's a choice between you and them, you know what my choice would be."

Morgana's angry frown softened as she relaxed her shoulders. "Arthur, you don't understand. This is my fault. If I hadn't lied to Uther, if I hadn't give him reason..." Tears escaped from her eyes as she swallowed against the lump in her throat. "I led him right to them." With a choked sob, she buried her head into her hands.

Arthur knelt down and encircled Morgana's wrists, pulling her hands from her face. Lifting his right hand to wipe away her tears, he spoke gently, "Morgana, look at me." When she refused to comply, Arthur took both sides of her face in his hands and forced her eyes to meet his. "I know you, Morgana. You're kind and compassionate, and you would do anything for those you love. This was an accident, and it's no one's fault, do you understand?"

She looked away briefly and the wounded look in her eyes receded to show a layer of resolve. "No one except perhaps Uther."

Arthur's jaw clenched, but he nodded in silent agreement. "I'll do everything I can to stop him, but you have to stay out of it. I can't risk you doing anything foolish."

Morgana was about to protest, but Arthur was up and unlocking the door before she could argue further. 

He came back and took her hand, lifting her from the chair. Arthur led the way to Morgana's chambers, pulling her along behind him.

As they entered, Gwen stopped her chores, looking up knowingly. "Is something the matter?"

"Gwen, would you mind looking after Morgana for me?" Arthur asked.

Morgana huffed. "Please, Arthur, this is ridiculous."

Arthur ignored her, looking back to Gwen. "She is not to leave this room under any circumstance."

Gwen smiled nervously and Morgana snorted in disgust.

Arthur turned to Morgana. "I'm serious, Morgana. Stay put." He kissed the top of her head before abruptly exiting the room.

Morgana flopped down dramatically on her bed. "He is utterly impossible! Why do I put up with him?"

Gwen savored a slight grin, "Now that is something I've been asking myself for ages milady, though to be fair you aren't always low maintenance yourself." 

"Gwen!" Morgana half shouted and spluttered out.

Gwen laughed to herself as Morgana continued to pout.

\---

Arthur entered the throne room guided by a sense of purpose. While Uther sat on his throne ready for anything, as he had anticipated Arthur's dramatic entrance. It was clear that Morgana's influence on Arthur was worsening, which only fueled his suspicions. His son's eyes were hard, but it was clear that beneath that, Arthur was frightened for what was to happen next. 

He stopped abruptly in front of his father and tilted his head in a respectful fashion. "Father, you wished to see me?"

"Yes, I have good news, Arthur. Your men successfully located and secured a Druid camp early this morning." He smiled, though his eyes flashed with an unspoken taunt. "You should be proud, you've trained them well."

"Of course, father. Though I do wonder why they were sent without my permission? I recall the men were mine to command, were they not?" Arthur challenged, knowing full well the game Uther was playing.

Uther's smile had vanished, his jaw muscles now clenching as his temper rose. "They may be under your command, but as I am their King, I can use them how I see fit. You'd do well to remember that."

"And the fate of the captured Druids? Am I allowed to know that, or did you simply bring me here to gloat?"

Uther noted that Arthur was obviously peering past him, as if searching for the captives in plain sight. "They'll be dealt with accordingly, there's no need to concern yourself. It's a rather beautiful day isn't it; why don't you take a ride with the Lady Morgana?" The way Uther forced out the last word like bile made Arthur's muscles spasm.

"Father, the lady is quite tired today and has expressed her desire to remain undisturbed. As for the Druids, they are my concern, as it is my duty as crown prince to ensure the safety of my people."

Uther grew noticeably agitated as Arthur kept pressing, although he found it quite comical that Morgana wasn't the one objecting in front of him. Ignoring his son's further explanations, Uther waved his hand effectively cutting off Arthur's ramblings. "To answer your question, the Druids are known enemies of Camelot, due to their utter disregard of our laws. They would see us cut down if given the chance, therefore, I have no choice but to sentence them to death."

"Father, don't you think that a show of mercy might--"

"Their verdict has already been delivered, mercy has no place when it comes to those who practice magic. Now please offer my sincerest wishes of health to the Lady Morgana."

Arthur opened his mouth to object, but the finality in his father's voice was enough to stop him short. He bowed once more and turned on his heel to leave, feeling disheartened.

Arthur unconsciously led himself to Gaius's home in search of Merlin. As Arthur entered without knocking or any sign of notice, Merlin dropped several glasses of liquid. 

Merlin must have had his back turned to the door, as he jumped again when he saw who the intruder was. "Sire, what can I do for you? Are you in need of a target dummy, or a nice fellow to beat up on? Because I think I just saw Leon a short while ago, shall I go fetch him for you?"

Arthur shook his head, "Merlin cut the act. Morgana needs our help, and we don't have much time."

Merlin's insides twisted, and he felt instantly ill. "Arthur, what is going on?"

"My father has managed to round up the Druids and has already called for their execution; if I could tell anything from the sense of triumph he let off, he isn't too keen on waiting long."

Merlin swallowed heavily. "How is Morgana taking this?"

From the substantial silence that Arthur allowed to pass, Merlin discerned that she wasn't taking it too well at all. Arthur finally sighed, "I managed to lock her into her room, and Gwen is supervising her, so we may be able to contain her for another hour at best."

Merlin took a second, thinking about the consequences of following this path. He would do most anything that Arthur wished, but where Morgana was concerned, the choices weren't always the safest. Arthur seemed determined to go to the ends of the earth to make her happy, however, so Merlin didn't have much a choice. "I suppose then we have no time to lose."

After several failed attempts to convince the guards that King Uther had taken to wearing a dress, Merlin and Arthur decided they needed a new plan.

Merlin was assigned the role of the distraction, as Arthur was to pull off the escape. After Merlin ran off hollering something about dragons having eaten the king and half the kingdom, Arthur made his way to the dungeons. His confidence was solidified as a sea of guards ran after the servant failing to hold back laughter. Arriving at the section of the prison cordoned off for the Druids, Arthur made for the one housing Mordred. As he looked to pull the keys from his pocket, he found they weren't where he had put them. Instead he was greeted by his father with the keys dangling from his gloved hand.

\---

Morgana's eyes were brimming with tears as an immense pyre was set up beneath her window. Her stomach lurched, and Gwen was there immediately to comfort her. The soothing circles Gwen drew into Morgana's back did nothing to assuage her guilt and horror. Morgana tried to be strong, but the numbness she was accustomed to relying on was gone, leaving her raw. She sobbed, the cries coming from her throat almost inhuman. 

Gwen pulled her into her arms. Morgana felt completely drained, and yet she felt like bursting. She couldn't stop thinking about all the ways she went wrong-- the lies she told that condemned these people, her reckless rescue mission that led the guards straight to the camp. Accompanied by gasping breaths, Morgana confessed, "Gwen... this is all my fault. The Druids did nothing wrong. They never healed me, no one did. It was all a lie." 

Making shushing noises, Gwen tried to stop her. "It's not your fault, Morgana. You don't have to--"

Hiccuping, Morgana shook her head sharply, pulling back from Gwen's hold. She was tired of lying, especially to the people she cared about the most. "No, I should be..." She took a steadying breath. "It was me. I healed myself." On a sob, she admitted, "I have magic, Gwen."

Gwen nodded tearfully, her face unchanged by the revelation. She brushed her hand along Morgana's hair soothingly. "I know. I've known for a long time."

Morgana's eyes snapped up to meet Gwen's, finding nothing but sympathy in the other girl's gaze. Upon seeing Gwen's sad smile, she collapsed back into her friend's arms.

\---

Morgana's eyes were hollow as she stared out at the square. She should be doing something, but she was forced to sit and watch, knowing that despite his attempts, Arthur would not be successful. The executions were to begin in just a few minutes. The vision of Druids lined up in chains made her knees buckle and her resolve fade.

When the fanfare died down, and Uther had fully risen to his feet, he began to speak. "For decades this noble land had made it a goal to bring justice to the realm. Sorcery is an evil that we have fought for too long, and those who practice magic must be brought to justice. These Druids may claim to use magic for healing alone, but they defy our laws, and cannot be trusted. The law stands, and the penalty for those who practice magic is death. Let the executions begin."

As Uther ceased to speak, Morgana turned to observe the first victim. Mordred was being dragged onto the platform, the guards roughly tying him to the pyre. He was propped up like a trophy with his arms and legs bound onto the crude angles of the post. The flames were lit, and the wood crackled as the fire started to spread. As Morgana turned away from Mordred's trembling figure, cries begging for mercy sprouted into her head, and it forced her eyes open, despite her attempts to look away. Mordred was burning alive, and his last try at seeking salvation rung in her ears. A ripple of pent up fury and remorse wove its way through Morgana's body, and she could no longer stand it. She screamed, the force of her wail causing the whole castle to shake. Her eyes flashed gold, and fractures appeared across the courtyard beneath her feet. As she continued to scream, the walls started to crumble, and the square erupted into chaos. The people started running in every direction, the execution long forgotten.

Uther's eyes widened as he turned his head erratically to find the source of the sound. When his eyes fell on Morgana's fuming figure at her window, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Arthur knew without looking what had happened; he felt her fear in every wave. He put aside his worry, knowing that this was the distraction he needed to free the boy. Quickly, he pushed through the hordes and raced over to the pyre. Throwing a cloak down on the flames, he tore Mordred away from the pyre and fled to the safety of the crowd. If it hadn't happened already, Arthur knew all hell was to break loose.

\---

Morgana burst into the throne room, ignoring the risks and damning Arthur's wishes for her to stay uninvolved. "You're still going to kill them, I suppose?"

Uther shook his head, chuckling to himself. "That display in the square only solidifies their guilt, Morgana."

"You would kill those who helped me? If that is their crime, then should we condemn all those who seek to heal us? I guess we should add Gaius to the processions, as well."

"Morgana," Uther snapped, clearly unamused.

Morgana took a calming breath, trying for another tactic as she pleaded, "If you ever bore any love for me at all, you won't do this."

"They used magic, Morgana, your feelings don't play a part in this." He rounded on her, glaring. "I will not change my mind about this. Their sentence stands."

Morgana bit down on the inside of her lip, breathing through her nose as her temper rose. "What if I told you they didn't heal me? That no one did?"

Uther shook his head, making a noise of derision as he dismissed her attempts. "Go back to your chambers. The executions will continue as planned."

"I will not let you do this." There was pure malice in her words, and she stood her ground as Uther encroached her personal space.

Pretenses long forgotten, Uther angrily returned, "I warned you before, if you crossed me again, it would be the last-- no matter what I promised your father."

Morgana shuffled backwards as the gravity of the King’s words settled around her. "My father truly made a mistake in trusting you to keep me safe. How ironic to think that my protector would be the one with the power to sentence me to death. Why stop now, when you can claim us all? My father, mother, and now me. You are what the people should fear, not the druids. Kill me if that will satisfy your bloodlust, but I will not sit by and let you do further harm."

\---

Arthur peered around a corner, and to his delight found no guards, or servants. Fortunately, the absence of any witnesses would allow for him to reconvene with Morgana to strategize. He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when he entered her room, with the fruits of his efforts laid out right in front of her. He hoped that rescuing Mordred might persuade Morgana to forget his past transgressions-- ones that she found so fun to dangle over his head; at least temporarily. Checking to make sure that his charge was still behind him, he turned to skirt the corner. After motioning for Mordred to be silent, Arthur made it a few steps before he went crashing into a blur of golden and blue fabric. Managing to steady himself on the wall, the maid he ran into wasn’t so lucky. He knelt down to help her up, but found it to be Guinevere. He felt like someone had shoved a lance pole down his throat. "Ah, Guinevere, I am so sorry. I didn’t see you there. Are you alright?"

"Really, you didn’t see me, huh?" She quirked an eyebrow at him, and continued, "Never mind that, why are you in such a rush?"

Arthur’s gusto returned immediately, "I am on my way to share my victory with Morgana. This should excuse me from any further mishaps for a minimum of two months. Let’s hope. Is she still in her room?"

"Arthur, I was just coming to find you. I'm sorry, but Morgana-- she's not in her chambers. The entire castle was shaking, and I was so disorientated... She must have slipped out when I wasn't looking."

Arthur’s eyes widened as fear began to balloon inside him.

"We have to find her. If I know her at all, I fear what she may do will result in more harm then good."

"What do you mean?"

Gwen gulped as if she wasn’t sure that she should be divulging what she had learned. Hesistantly, she started, "Arthur, she told me that she..."

Sighing heavily, he nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I know." He set his hand lightly on Guinevere's arm. "It's going to be alright."

From behind Arthur, Gwen caught sight of a pair of familiar bright blue eyes. "Is that the Druid boy that was supposed to be executed? Why is he with you?"

Arthur shrugged, wordlessly conveying his reasons with a smirk.

Nervous, Gwen bit her lip. "Arthur--"

Arthur smiled and shoved Mordred towards Guinevere. "I know I can trust you to take care of him. I'm sorry, Guinevere, there is no time to explain any further, I have to find Morgana."

Gwen tucked the boy under her arm, nodding in agreement. "Go, we'll be fine."

Arthur took off in a sprint towards the throne room.

\---

The colors in Uther’s already bleak eyes shriveled up and died at the mention of Morgana's family, leaving only blackness staring back at her. 

Morgana’s shoulder blades involuntarily shook. Something inside of her had been deeply disturbed, but she refused to let it show. 

"Your mother practiced magic, and she conspired to turn your father against me, just as you seek to do with my own son. I did not kill her, but I would feel no remorse if I had. I will make an example of you if I must, and perhaps then Arthur will finally be free of your poisonous influence."

The mention of Arthur was like a slap to the face. "You have no right to speak of my mother. You took her from me; you destroyed my family in your attempt to rectify your own mistakes. Now as you continue to justify your actions, I can see the façade slipping. You have fallen too far, and you know it."

"You will hold your tongue." Uther bellowed.

He flew at her with startling speed, and Morgana barely managed to pivot out of the way as he charged at her. Uther recovered, taking ahold of her arm and yanking her towards him. The feeling of nausea was instantaneous, and the throne room before her muddled into a series of disjointed lines. As her vision slowly returned, his hand reached for her throat. Fingers started to wrap around her neck, and Morgana was reminded of a familiar experience, the memory filling her with rage.

In a reflexive action, Morgana threw her hand up to stop him, refusing to allow him to touch her.

Uther suddenly flew off of her, and he hit the floor reeling. Morgana's hand was still crackling from the force of the magic, and her eyes were a faint golden color as the king looked up at her. "I knew it," he hissed.

Morgana stumbled back, still in a daze.

Uther remained on the floor, staring up at her with hatred in his eyes. "I should've seen it sooner. You're wicked, just like your mother and your sister. I had so hoped you'd be different."

His acknowledgment of Morgause caused Morgana to snap back into focus, her anger returning. She lifted her hand once more, but before she could do anything further, a detail of guards burst into the throne room due to the commotion.

Uther recovered faster than her, and was ordering his soldiers to apprehend Morgana before she could defend herself.

A fateful glance back at the throne room door showed Arthur breaking through the wooden barriers and surveying the scene for the devastation he had expected. Any words of protest Morgana had were swallowed by the rough interruption of two guards grabbing her on either side.

Arthur moved to confront the guards, but two others were waiting in the wings for this very reaction. "What is the meaning of this?"

Uther struggled to his feet. "She attacked me, by the use of magic. She is to be put to death."

"No!" Arthur shouted.

Morgana struggled to rip free of the guards, but her efforts were in vain.

Arthur was of the same mind as her as he thrashed against the human blockade, trying helplessly to stop the guards. "Let me go, you cannot take her!" He knocked one of the men out of his way, pushing through to where Morgana was being dragged backwards. "Morgana, I will not let them do this!" he promised as he grabbed for her hand.

Uther stood to his full height, waving in more guards. "Restrain him."

Arthur was yanked back, his fingers ripped away from Morgana's touch. He continued to yell, still kicking and fighting the guards holding him. "No! Morgana!" He pulled free long enough to lean in and kiss her, whispering desperate proclamations of love against her lips. A swift blow to the ribs subdued him, and Morgana was pulled back.

The guards retreated towards the open doors with their prisoner in tow, and Morgana took one last look at Uther. His eyes softened a fraction of a second, and his face grew slack, but after years of perfecting his mask, Uther was fast enough that nobody else caught his momentary lapse of guilt.

As the doors closed, Arthur finally broke free and made his way over to his father. He pointed his finger accusingly at his King, as if it were a drawn blade.

"You cannot do this! Whatever happened, I'm sure it was self defense!"

"She is guilty, I have more than enough evidence against her," Uther replied.

Arthur nearly shook from the wave of emotions choking him. "This isn’t right; please, father. I love her."

Uther chuckled, touching his son's cheek in a patronizing motion. "My son, she has truly buried your senses so deep. Don’t worry, her enchantment will be lifted once she is dead."

"Enchantment?" Arthur lunged for his father, but was once again halted by the guards loyal to his father. "She hasn't enchanted me, father. Please, I'm begging you. Let her go."

The guards kicked Arthur's knee out from under him, and he was brought to a kneeling position. Uther smiled sadly above him. "It seems terrible now, but you'll be free of her soon enough. You'll see."

"I will never forgive you for this," Arthur vowed, venom seeping through his words. "Never." The thought of losing Morgana drove him mad, and he again attempted to charge at his father, pushing himself up from his knees.

This time, the guards were better prepared, and they hauled him off, remanding him to his chambers.

\---

Arthur was shoved into his chambers and the doors slammed shut before he had a chance to react. He began pacing agitatedly and grit his teeth so hard the resulting force and a momentary lapse in aim rendered him with a bloodied cheek. He needed Morgana to talk sense to him, but she wasn’t here and if his father had it his way, she would never be here to reprimand him again. He would give anything to get her back. She was a part of him, and he couldn’t lose her again. They were finally happy again, but now yet another obstacle was set before them. Another war to win.

Arthur charged the doors and threw himself at them. Once, twice, three times. He had lost count. Any associated pain that bloomed within his shoulder, he paid no heed. He had to do something, if only these damn doors would budge. He just wanted her back. That wasn’t a crime, and yet he was being kept against his will, kept company only by the crushing anxiety and resentment that heaved in his chest. It became too much, and Arthur collapsed. He slid down the door, fibers of his shirt getting caught on the stray splinters of wood. At this point he was numb to everything. He wasn’t surprised when he started sobbing.

Everything had grown dark again and he didn’t know what to do this time around. Lost in the noise of his sputters of breath, he didn’t hear someone enter the room. Abandoning all reason, his heart jumped for a minute because just maybe she had come back, but it was only Merlin. 

Merlin was carrying a tray full of unidentifiable food, and he was genuinely startled when he heard Arthur’s cries. He immediately discarded the dinner ware and knelt down to settle Arthur’s arm around his shoulder. He heaved upwards and almost fell backwards as he was met with opposition from Arthur, who seemed keen on staying on the floor. Merlin raised an eyebrow at him. "Up you get."

Arthur just grunted in response and supported his own weight again as he stood up reluctantly. 

Merlin led Arthur to the nearest chair and plopped him into the cloth haven. After making sure that Arthur was not on the verge of another breakdown, he returned to what he carried originally and made himself useful by pouring Arthur a glass of water. 

Arthur just waved Merlin off and glared at him.

"What? Don’t give me that look." 

Arthur groaned and threw a pillow at Merlin. "Now is not the time."

Merlin cringed at the lack of emotion in Arthur's voice. He sighed heavily and knelt before Arthur. "I'm sorry Arthur. I can't imagine what you’re going through."

"Just leave me be, Merlin."

Merlin resisted the urge to smack the prince. He knew that Arthur's tenuous grip on sanity would be destroyed if Morgana was taken from him for good. After two close calls, the third time may be the charm, and Merlin dreaded what it would do to the kingdom. Uther truly didn't realize how much Arthur needed Morgana. His love for her was more than a simple passing fancy, and the thought of them being parted terrified Merlin. "Arthur..." he began, the words sticking in his throat. "Perhaps I can help."

Arthur scoffed derisively. "What can _you_ do, Merlin?" God knows he had gotten Arthur out of several fatal situations before, but Arthur found himself apprehensive to ask his bumbling servant for help, despite the niggling feeling that there was more to Merlin than what meets the eye.

Merlin bit down on his tongue, steeling himself. "More than you think."

Arthur was a bit startled by that, expecting Merlin to make a joke as usual when confronted with this sort of thing.

Maybe it was time to tell Arthur the truth. After today it was likely that nothing was to be the same ever again, and if Morgana’s life was at stake, Merlin had no other option than to be completely honest with Arthur. Taking a deep breath, Merlin uttered, "I'm more than just a servant."

Arthur grabbed Merlin's shoulder in a friendly gesture. "Yes, I know, but I doubt your ability to talk to dragons will get us out of this one."

Merlin shook his head. "Arthur... I," he struggled for a moment, gasping as the weight of what he was doing hit him. "It's more than that." He'd kept this hidden for so long, and the thought of finally saying it out loud terrified him. He had imagined it a million times, a million different ways, but there was no time for that anymore. If Morgana was going to die, this was the moment, whether he wanted it to be or not. Swallowing against the dryness in his throat, Merlin rasped, his voice thick with emotion, "I have magic."

Arthur dropped his hand, the realization not fully registering with him. "Don't be ridiculous, Merlin."

Frustrated by Arthur's stubbornness, Merlin huffed angrily. They didn't have time for this. Whispering a spell under his breath, Merlin conjured a flame in his open palm.

Time seemed to slow as Arthur turned around, the gaze on his face betraying the stoic visage he was desperately working to maintain. Arthur’s features were contorted angles frozen in place by the betrayal he felt.

Merlin had only seen this twice before. The typical jubilance that sparkled in Arthur’s eyes had melted away and left him adrift, his feelings muddled. Merlin rose to his feet, extinguishing the flame as he clenched his fist closed.

Arthur managed to compose himself, and with one blink his shields were back up. "You lied to me. All this time."

"I didn't want to," Merlin replied, half sobbing the words.

Arthur stood as Merlin backed away. "You were my friend, and you lied to me." 

Merlin flinched, muttering sorrowfully. "I still am your friend."

Arthur recoiled. "Friends don’t lie to each other for years, and that is exactly what you did. Nothing you say is going to fix that." 

Merlin stature slumped as his hopes of reconciliation faded away. Arthur had struggled to come to terms with Morgana's magic, and she hadn't kept it from him for nearly as long. But he had really hoped that Arthur would accept him. "I understand. Hate me if you wish, but you asked me what I can do, and I know of a way that we can help Morgana." 

Arthur swallowed down his confusion and hurt, recognizing that there was more at stake than his feelings. He begrudgingly asked, "What's your plan?"

Merlin explained, "I will wait until the execution and I can conjure an illusion to mask our escape. If it goes wrong, I am truly sorry."

"Don’t waste time apologizing, just take her and don’t look back. You run like hell, Merlin."

Merlin gave Arthur a weak smile, and dipped his head in agreement. With no final farewell, Merlin’s wispy silhouette melted through the doorway. 

\---

Down in the dungeons, Gwen was attempting to see Morgana. "Let me through. Morgana at least deserves a last meal," Gwen exclaimed.

Her voice might have well been a whisper on the breeze, for it fell on deaf ears. These guards had known Morgana for years and they were treating her like an animal. Gwen thought of all the times Morgana rallied for the knights, even risked her life for them out of the goodness of her heart; all of that was for naught. They were so blindly loyal to Uther that they were willing to exchange their vows for the affection of a misguided king. Though she knew of at least one knight who could help her, and would help her. Not all was lost.

"I demand to speak with Sir Leon. Unlike the rest of you, he knows what honor is."

The guards exchanged annoyed glances and managed to agree on the same course of action. One called out, "This doesn't concern you. Why don't you go back upstairs and sew some dresses?"

Guinevere’s fair and delicate face snapped into one of disgust; she curtsied and made to turn around in order to scale the stairs. As they returned to their game of dice, Gwen tipped her tray just enough for its contents to dump onto the heads of the three men. The guards jumped out of their seats, disgusted. Gwen hoisted the tray above her head to defend herself, but before she could do further damage, Leon appeared at the top of the steps with his usual bright smile.

"Am I too late to the party?"

Gwen beamed, "You are right on time."

"Well that is always good to hear. I am here to answer your call, milady. Although I do beg that you reconsider clumping my guards’ round the head, they aren't all that bright to begin with." Leon chuckled lightly at his lame jest, and Gwen ran to hug him. He picked her up and twirled her around. "You go see Morgana, I will deal with these three."

"Thank you." Gwen smiled once more and squeezed a little tighter before hurrying to Morgana’s cell. 

\---

Morgana was curled up on the floor, shaking in the chill of the dungeon.

Gwen rushed to the cell door and dropped to her knees. "Morgana... Morgana, wake up."

Morgana lifted herself from the fetal position rather slowly and her eyes scrunched up as if they never expected to see a familiar face again. "Oh Gwen, what are you doing here? It's too dangerous. If Uther finds you, you will be tried as conspiring with a sorceress."

Gwen cried a little bit at those words. "If spending time with my closest friend is a crime in this kingdom, than so be it. I will not leave you alone."

Morgana’s eyes stung as tears started to build. She reached for Gwen's fingers, covering them where they rested on the bars.

"The druid boy is safe. I helped him escape to the woods," Gwen whispered.

Morgana produced a watery smile. "At least I'm dying for something, then."

Crying, Gwen's hand shook under Morgana's hold. "Morgana, I can't lose you. I don’t know what I'd do without you."

Morgana wiped a tear from Gwen’s face. "You'll be alright. You have your brother, and your friends. And Arthur will take care of you, I'm sure of it. You are the strongest person I know, Gwen."

"We'll find a way to save you," Gwen stated, with more confidence then she actually felt.

Shaking her head, Morgana sighed. "This was only a matter of time. I should've listened to Morgause... but I'm glad I came back, even if it was only temporary. You and Arthur have made my life worth living."

"No, Morgana, don't talk like that."

Ignoring Gwen's pleas, Morgana asked, "I need you to do something for me."

Gwen almost choked on the resulting sobs, "Anything, Morgana."

"Take care of Arthur for me? He's going to blame himself, and I can't bear the thought of his suffering. Promise to watch out for him, and make him happy. Please."

Gwen nodded, but she couldn’t swallow the lump in her throat, "I promise. I'd do anything for you, Morgana." 

Morgana squeezed once more and let her go. "And I you, Gwen. Now go, it looks like your knight in shining armor awaits."

Gwen started crying once more, and Morgana had to look away in order to stop her tears. 

Nodding to the dutiful knight, Morgana requested, "Take good care of her, Leon."

Leon nodded sadly, "Always, my lady."

Leon and Morgana shared a momentary glance of unspoken words, an exchange of thanks and goodbyes, and when their gazes broke, Leon shuttled Gwen away from Morgana’s cell. 

\---

The sun had never been such an unwelcome sight before. The light forced its way into Morgana's eyes and she sat up as her cell door was wrenched open, revealing the men sent to collect her. They wordlessly forced her to her feet, roughly pulling on her arms. It was upsetting, but not unsurprising-- after all, she was just a witch. They shoved her out of the cell and began the walk to the pyre.

Meanwhile, Merlin’s senses were nearly shutting down. The corners of his sight faded away into a dark oblivion and every sound he heard was muffled. He had stayed up all evening searching for a spell or potion to help Morgana. When he was near giving up, he found an incantation in his personal tome of magic that could be the key to her salvation. Once the bells rang signaling the soon to be execution, Merlin swiped a worn and frayed auburn tunic from his bedpost and ran through the workshop. He thought to himself that it was time for Dragoon the Great to make an appearance.

The guards cuffed Morgana’s hands above her head. The early sunshine was unusually warm, blistering her wrists on the iron and setting her shift to unbearable temperatures. Morgana become lost in a heat induced daze, she would have asked for water, but it was her execution after all. The mass of heads in the crowd gathering before her shifted and flexed like waves lapping against the shore, and they all blurred together to form a hideous mosaic. The one person who stood out of the crowd was Uther, elevated on his balcony. He began to speak, but Morgana didn’t pay any attention.

Uther shook his head as if to knock the reservations out of his brain. He cleared his throat, and gathered his thoughts until the fanfare died down. "Today is a day I never thought would come. I never imagined it possible, but the Lady Morgana has been found guilty of treason, by means of using spells and enchantments."

Multiple people in the crowd gasped, but Morgana had blocked out the noise.

"Sorcery must be eradicated, no matter who the perpetrator may be. I have sworn to uphold these laws, and I have no alternative but to cleanse this land, despite the pain it might bring. I truly am sorry, Morgana, but I have no choice." Uther waited a fleeting moment, and then slashed his arm through the air. Once it reached the end of its journey, the executioners shoved the torches downward and the flames set upon the wood and Morgana.

The heat Morgana was feeling now was worse than she had imagined. She could feel the plumes of smoke circle her feet, slowly. It wasn’t long until the heat began to creep up to her ankles. Morgana writhed and screamed, more out of fury than pain, her survival instincts suddenly awakened.

Arthur was determined to watch the entire thing from where he was trapped in his room, waiting for the moment that Merlin made good on his vow, but the first cry that sprung from Morgana’s lips flew him into a frenzy. He clutched his sword and attacked anything within arm’s reach, demolishing his own belongings.

The cries only grew worse, until they stopped momentarily, and Arthur against his own volition dropped his weapon and ran to the open window. Morgana was frozen. Time seemed to halt, the breath was stolen from his lungs. The effect dwindled some and he was met with one final image of Morgana, the lower portion of her engulfed by fire. A decrepit and withered old man jumped onto the platform and ran to undo Morgana’s binds, yet Uther and the others in the square appeared not to notice.

Amazingly the flames seemed repelled by the old man, as if he was devoid of oxygen. No fuel to burn. Morgana fell into the man’s arms once she was free, and she collapsed, completely limp. She must have passed out from the smoke. The old man turned to Arthur and winked. In a flash the man and Morgana were gone. The fire engulfed both of their forms, and the stench of singed flesh permeated the air. Arthur jammed his nose behind the fabric of his sleeve and stood there rooted to that place. She was gone.

\---

Uther was insufferably pleased with himself, and as a result, Arthur refused any visitors, even going to the length of shoving a chest in front of his door to keep himself secluded from prying eyes. The only thought that he allowed himself to think was, "she is gone." He refused to think beyond that, the unknowing, the possibility of death, it was too much for him to think about.

The only shred of understanding he had left, was that his father had done this to him. He had taken away the two most important women in his life away without even batting an eye. And Arthur wasn’t going to rest until he found a way to repay that favor. Morgana was right all along; things would be better without Uther. If only he had listened to her when he had the chance.

Looking out his window over the kingdom, he vowed, "If it's the last thing I do, I will make things right, ‘Gana. I swear it."


End file.
